No 'Three' in Teamwork
by sagdragon3002
Summary: The world's in danger. Again. But the biggest problem lies in getting three groups of world saviors to work together. A crossover with Stargate and Mortal Kombat. On Hiatus see author's profile.
1. Chapter 1: Godly Communion

Disclaimer: Stargate: SG-1 is not mine. Mortal Kombat is not mine. Buffy: the Vampire Slayer is not mine. This is a crossover between Stargate, Buffy, and my MK fan-fiction, though it is taking a detour from the original plot-line.

Side note: I'm a newcomer in the Stargate world, and I'm also not all that strong on the Buffy-verse, so if I have inaccuracies, I apologize but don't send e-mails flaming with viruses and programs to crash my computer and warp my files (I have enough of those warping stuff anyway). Because then I won't be able to _fix_ those inaccuracies. Oh, how logic fits together like a perfectly done puzzle...

When: For the Stargate universe, this would be during S7, but before the episode 'Heroes'. I don't like that particular episode, and prefer my Janets alive, thank you. MK doesn't really have 'seasons' so I'm safe there. Buffy is after S7 (sniff, I miss waiting anxiously for Tuesday nights to watch it).

**Notice:** **This story has now finished revising**--for now, at least.Chapter 4 has the major changes, and Chapter 2 has a minor detail added that will make things make more sense later. Sorry for the long wait; as a reward for your patience I've actually posted the fifth chapter. Thank goodness for WordPad, though I would prefer if I had Word back...

* * *

_July 21st, Time Unknown_

Papers shuffled in the room as its restless occupants murmured and awaited the summit to begin. The impressive assemblage consisted of three branches of the highest powers: the Elder Gods, the Ascended, and the Powers That Be.

At the current moment, a brave mortal would have thought them more akin to tantrum-throwing three-year-olds.

An immortal demon sighed as he sank lower into his chair, ignoring the bickering raging on around him. He plucked his fedora off his head and stared blearily at it for a second before replacing it with a sigh. _This is why I don't come to more meetings than necessary. All they do is 'wah wah' this and 'wah wah' that. And Mother always asks, "Why don't you take the world more **seriously**, Whistler-Dearest?" I would think the answer is as clear as an invisible demon._

_It's because I don't want to turn into **these** dimwits._

The demon took another look around before grimacing. The elders of the pantheon were not even in attendance. All that sat in their chairs aged about a few thousand centuries older and a few hundred younger than he.

_They knew it would turn out to be a big joke,_ Whistler thought sourly. _They knew they would argue themselves blue in the face, admit defeat, and let their big brothers handle the whole mess. Of course, Big Brother and Big Sister would just make it a bigger mess, but at least they make a **decision**. Why, oh, why did I leave my Scotch bottle back in the flat?_

"Brethren, calm down!" an Ascended being screamed over the clamor. Returning his attention to the pantheon, Whistler skimmed his eyes over the broken chairs, bruised Elders, dull PTB auras, and three Ascended beings that looked downright agonized. His gaze landed on a pretty-faced Ascended, and remembered her name as Oma Desala.

Now that she had the attention she desired, Oma lowered her tone to a more respectable level. "This is a delicate situation. It requires delicate handling. We should sit down, and plan our attack as _adults_, not _children_."

"And by 'delicate handling,' Oma," one PTB spoke, "are you insinuating that _our_ champion oversee the problem? For we all know how your. . . group, manages tact."

Whistler had to give the PTB a point, though he didn't know which PTB had spoken: Oma's champions did have a tendency to do more "blow 'em up and head on out"-ing than delicate operations.

Oma seemed to concede that point as well. "They are not known for their finesse, but they, as the mortals say, get the job done. And with less emotional drama as _your_ champion does, Truma."

_Ah, Truma_, Whistler recognized the PTB's aura now; Truma was the one that thought of the Slayer as an entertaining pawn. And ergo was one Whistler did not like.

"This situation is geared closer to the Slayer's duties than your humans, Oma!" Truma flared his aura; it reminded Whistler of his last Fourth of July: showy and pointless. "The Slayer has far more experience in matters like these than your. . . _SG-1_."

Oma's face twisted in a frown, and just when Whistler thought a showdown was going to happen (and thus earning him a hefty hundred pounds of gold) another voice intervened. "Oma, Truma, settle down. Let's set an example for the others, hm?"

Whistler turned his attention to the speaker, as did every other being in the assembly. He was one of the Gods, though not himself an Elder. Eyes sparked with electricity as he added, "We wouldn't want our older siblings to think that we need constant guidance, so let's keep the hall intact."

For a moment, Whistler thought the God had laid eyes on him; the moment went as quickly as it came. "I have a proposition that may settle all our disputes and the problem at hand."

"And what would that be?" Truma snarled. "Letting your _Defenders_ fight, Thunder God?"

Whistler snapped his eyes back on the God. _Lord Rayden_, Whistler finally recognized him. He had heard stories while drinking himself into a stupor at several bars: Rayden was infamous for mingling with the mortals he swore to protect and aiding them in a more-than-helpful way.

_I'm glad one of us 'protectors' can do that_, Whistler grumbled to himself as Rayden addressed Truma.

"Of course I want my fighters to participate," Rayden replied cheerfully. "Not exactly certain if they themselves would want to land themselves into another brawl, but I'll turn 'em around. But what I'm suggesting is that we have a joint effort in this problem."

Whistler leaned forward. This sounded interesting. "What kind of joint effort?" he asked, speaking in the assembly for the first time in quite a while. Several looked surprised at him, probably unaware that his presence was legit.

Rayden grinned at Whistler, an action that made him more worried than reassured. "We bring the Powers That Be's Chosen One, the Ascended's forces, and my Defenders together and they fight as one army."

This caused an instantaneous uproar. Oma was busy trying to calm her fellows while they yelled for "No interference!" and Truma exclaimed that, "The Slayer works alone!" and the Elders insisted that, "We cannot break the rules, even for this one obstacle!"

Rayden stood tranquilly, waiting out the storm. Whistler commended him for his patience, and after a time the group realized Rayden would not join them in their riot. They settled into a silent simmer.

When the last mutterer made his peace, Rayden went on. "This is an obstacle that threatens all of humanity, all of the universe, and eventually all of us as well. We must tread on each other's borders in order to resolve this case," he nodded his head to the Ascended.

He turned to Truma, and Whistler saw a flash of annoyance in Rayden's eyes before he spoke, "In my opinion, the Powers That Be should never have made the Slayer work alone. I kept my silence, however, as it is not my place to say. But the current Slayer, or Slayers as the case is, are no longer alone, am I right, Whistler?" he asked of the demon, tilting his head to the side.

Rising to his feet, Whistler nodded. "The Slayer's got herself quite a following," he reported. "And they've all helped, not hindered. It's about time the Slayer quit the solo biz, and I for one am thrilled that she's brought a few people into the limelight with her." He glared challengingly at Truma, placating his rebellious side with that motion.

Still fuming, Truma sat in his seat. He did not argue further.

"As for the rules," Rayden addressed his own colleagues with a cool eye, "they do not apply here. The rules are for Mortal Kombat, the Slayer's core duties, and the threat of Goa'uld supremacy only. And yes, I do feel that the rules should stay, if only to give the other side a fighting chance." He chuckled for a second before sobering and continuing. "This problem doesn't fall under the jurisdiction of any of the three, so we are well within our rights to combine forces."

Rayden took a relaxed pose, and the assemblage realized that he was finished speaking his case. Instead of the riot breaking out, as Whistler expected, they turned to their neighbors and murmured. Catching a few of the whispers, Whistler smiled. _Rayden might be a slight odd-ball, but he sure knows how to get 'em on their side_.

Finally, the whispers stopped and Oma rose. "The Ascended put their faith in Rayden's choice," she declared.

The spokesperson for the Elders announced their agreement, though Whistler privately thought they should have gotten Rayden to speak; he was far more impressive.

The PTB took longer to make their decision, but in the end Truma rose in defeat and grumbled, "We yield to Rayden's plan," before slumping back.

Having come to a decision, the pantheon dissipated into clumps. Whistler made his way to the door, firmly set in his plan to visit the closest bar. His plan was put on hold, however, as he bumped into the Thunder God.

"Sorry 'bout that," Whistler grunted as he picked himself up and retrieved his fedora from the floor. Rayden took a moment to settle his own coolie hat back upon his head before giving his own apologies. "That was some speech back there," Whistler hailed. "Handling the Powers That Be, the Ascended, and the Elders at once, that takes some quick thinking."

"No, just a lot of bullshitting," Rayden confessed with a sigh. "After a few thousand years, you get to learn how sugary it takes to sweeten up an idea to the Elders. After a few coats, they forget what they were against of and say yes so they can go back to blissfully doing squat."

"Sounds like the Powers That Be," Whistler muttered. Jerking his head to the door, he asked, "Want a beer? My treat."

Rayden wrinkled his nose. "How about a long draught of Scotch and we forget the beer?"

"You're my new favorite God, Ray," Whistler led the way out of the assembly and walked through the blaring white hall. His keen hearing did not miss the murmured, "Did you even _have_ a favorite God before?"

They found their way to a bar and ordered their drinks, waiting for them in silence. When the barkeep returned with the glasses, conversation started up as though it had been merely set on pause. "Slayer's gonna have a field day when I give her the news," Whistler groaned. "After she kicks my balls, maybe she'll let me explain to her it wasn't my fault." The demon thought about it for a second, then shook his head. "Nah, she'll rip my ribcage out and give it to me as a hat first, just like she promised. Long story," he added at Rayden's inquisitive look.

"I'll take your word on it," Rayden assured him.

"What about you?" Whistler prompted. "What was that comment back there about?"

Rayden rolled his eyes. "They've just gotten back to their normal lives a month ago, and here I am crossing their thresholds to tell them they've got another fight ahead of them. Somehow I'm thinking they won't be inviting me to stay for a cuppa. Well, maybe Liu and Kitana will," he added as an afterthought. "They've always been the considerate ones. Nightwolf and Sub-Zero, too, they'll be friendly about it. It's the other three I don't want to face."

"How about you tell the Slayer and I tell your Defenders?" Whistler chuckled. "I'm sure with your godly blood you'd heal faster than me."

"I'm a god, not invincible," Rayden muttered darkly. The way he retreated into his glass for refuge made Whistler believe the topic was not one to broach.

"Men and drinking," Oma's voice made them look up. She hovered over them, frowning at them in disappointment. "What is it with men's obsession for alcohol when they have a task ahead of them?"

"Why don't you pull up a chair and have a drink with us?" Whistler invited cheerily. "The world may very well come to an end tomorrow, and it's best to experience all of life's pleasures before it's covered in shrimp."

Oma and Rayden looked at him oddly.

"What, you think that world full of shrimp is there because the crawfish overpopulated it?" Whistler demanded.

The Ascended being and Thunder God traded looks. _Let's not ask_ was the message in their eyes. However, Oma did sit down and order a glass of white wine with them.

"Where shall we gather them?" Oma asked as the three new glasses were served up. "I suspect it would be easier to tell them all at once than in separate groups."

"How about Cleveland?" Whistler recommended. "You two have ways of transporting groups to one location, I don't. All I got is my handy dandy Volkswagen."

Rayden rolled his eyes, "Volkswagen. Mortals could sink no lower than building _that_ contraption."

"What's wrong with it?" Whistler asked, outraged.

"It ran over my hat," the god grumbled. "Twice."

"As enlightening as this conversation sounds," Oma interrupted, "we should get back to the matter at hand. We agree to meet in Cleveland?"

The men's heads nodded, Rayden far more soberly. It appeared he was still grieving over his lost hat (even though he was wearing it at the moment).

"Alright, Cleveland tomorrow sound good?" Whistler clarified.

"Tomorrow's fine," Rayden waved a hand. "Oh, well, at least Sonya can't chew me out for waiting until the last minute to forewarn them of terrible news."

"If we are decided, I shall go now," Oma rose. "The military is awfully slow at responding to distress calls."

She vanished. Rayden toyed with his glass a moment before sighing and rising as well. "I should start now, too. Rounding up seven fighters is not as easy as one might think. Especially when they're whiny."

Whistler raised his glass in farewell. Rayden paused. "Aren't you going to tell the Slayer?"

"Nah, I like living, thanks. Buffy can stand to welcome eleven guests on short notice."

Rayden waited a moment longer, obviously debating whether or not to try and convince the demon otherwise. With a sigh, he spouted his own farewell and disappeared with a bolt of lightning. Whistler rolled his eyes and returned to his drink, muttering, "Show-off gods and their disappearances. Ah well, at least he's got style."

* * *

Love it? Hate it? Don't want anymore? Want to read the rest? Need contact information so you can burn me at the stake? There's only one way I can know, though I doubt I'll give you my address. 


	2. Chapter 2: The Save the World Committee

If anyone is actually reading this story, could you tell me if it is flowing smoothly or not? I'm not satisfied with this; it may just be me and my perfectionism, but it may very well be a reasonable fear. Any constructive criticism is welcome, emphasis on constructive. If you're just going to tell me "Stryker sucks" or "go JD/S!" then don't bother; I know J/S rocks (less of a fan of D/S, though) and I know the majority of the populace thinks Stryker is a lame character that isn't worth a sentence much less a story. If people think characters are acting out of character, though, that's a whole other story and should speak up. I take everything into consideration; whether or not I agree with you just depends on what evidence you have to back up your belief. 

Last tidbit of A/N: No, I don't like Kennedy. Kennedy is not right for Willow, and I just don't see her being a successful Slayer. Hopefully this is the last time you'll ever see me abuse the writer's privilege.

_

* * *

_

_Next Day, Cleveland, Summers' Residence_

Buffy Summers looked around her living room, nodding perfunctorily. Everything was perfectly normal. Just like a suburban living room in Cleveland, Ohio, was supposed to be.

Jabs of hunger made her turn and head to the kitchen, and she sighed pleasurably as she found her way unblocked by herds of people. Slayers, to be precise. And the food would be normal, not the Green Eggs and Ham sort that one usually found while Andrew was around.

After the town of Sunnydale collapsed into a crater, and with no other purpose, the large group had gone to Cleveland to watch over the Hellmouth there. Buffy would have been against going to another Hellmouth and restarting the cycle that was Sunnydale, but with an unlimited number of Slayers to share patrol duty, she had been won over.

Buffy thought that having several hundred Slayers would be a good thing, especially fighting the denizens of the dark and nasty. She soon learned, however, that with so many Slayers under one roof, egos and arrogance swelled uncontrollably. Faith's prediction that multiple Slayers weren't meant to coexist had further proof, and Xander found himself constantly employed to fix the stairs, kitchen, living room, or any room for that matter.

The heart of all the misplaced pride answered to the name of Kennedy, and it became clear that the newly-called Slayers were growing too dependent upon and too fond of their Slayer powers.

Everything had come to a head when Kennedy led a group of five newbie Slayers into a vampire nest with nothing more than a few stakes between them. Faith had to bail them out, but in the process they lost two newbies whose names Buffy had not even learned yet.

Needless to say, the Summers household was not serene and quiet that night.

Willow tried to defend her new love, but when Kennedy refused to take responsibility of her actions (instead blaming Buffy for not training them well enough), Willow reluctantly took Buffy's side. This made Kennedy exit in a huff, followed by a minority of other Slayers.

That night, the original Scooby Gang with the additions of Robin, Andrew, and Faith came to the conclusion that they needed to disperse the Slayers out across the globe now, rather than in a few months as they had been planning. Robin and Andrew volunteered to take the Slayers and give them basic training—Robin mostly took this responsibility; Andrew went to provide testosterone support for the former principal. Once the Watcher's Council was rebuilt and reformatted to better suit the needs of Slayers, the Watchers would head out immediately to their charges and begin formal training.

The next morning, the newbie Slayers found themselves to be relocated in pairs or larger groups, most of them to their former homes. Many faces were ecstatic, though some were understandably gloomy at the prospect of being sent back to the place they had nearly been killed, courtesy of the Bringers. Those particular Slayers were given a new locale, someplace far enough away that they could hopefully begin healing emotionally.

Kennedy, as it was to be expected, thought she would remain with Willow. She made a glib comment about "training Buffy to be the better kind of Slayer—Kennedy style," and Willow chose to defend her best friend, dumping her short-time girlfriend and informing her quite pleasantly that she would be taking a post in the westernmost region of Alaska. Buffy silently sighed her relief; Tara had been a much better girlfriend for the Wiccan.

After the few Slayers that were uncertain of the sudden move were appeased with sympathetic words and many chocolate chip cookies, they were ready to leave the Hellmouth. Robin and Andrew assured Buffy that they would ensure the region's safety before depositing a Slayer, so that a newbie wasn't forced to handle hordes of vampires without the proper training.

That had all taken place a month ago, and for that Buffy was grateful. Finding ways to scrape up money for Dawn's college funds was bad enough; add that to the growing trouble that was the Hellmouth, she didn't need PMSing Slayers in the mix.

As it was, her day was to worsen. Particularly when Dawn screamed somewhere in the living room.

When Buffy tore in, she found the demon known as Whistler reposing on the couch.

"Whistler," Buffy Summers slammed the demon up against the wall of her living room as she threatened, "what the hell are you planning, which loved one am I supposed to kill this time that I'm not going to kill even if it takes my soul to prevent it, and what do you think you are doing, coming back into my house like some cutesy little puppy?"

"Buffy," Dawn Summers, the Slayer's sister, placed a hand on her shoulder and whispered soothingly, "he can't answer you if you cut off his air supply."

The demon nodded wildly and pointed at Dawn, encouraging her point. With a frown Buffy let him go, and Whistler made a show of taking deep gasps of breath before straightening up. "Now, is that any way to treat a guest?" he asked.

"Eat your hat," Buffy retorted. "Now why are you here?"

"Well," Whistler leaned against the fireplace mantle, toying with a picture frame of the Slayer and her friends, "there's a problem. A big problem. And it's heading to Earth to cause some mayhem and very possibly create another apocalypse."

"Um, can we say 'overdone' and 'duh'?" Xander Harris said, giving Whistler a glare with his one eye.

"Yes, yes, but here's the good news, Slayer: You ain't going to have to do it alone. There's two other groups that are fighting alongside you."

Buffy quickly glanced at her comrades. They lined the living room in strategic locations: Willow, her Wicca powerhouse, stood farther from the entrance to give her time for her spells; Giles, Buffy's Watcher and father-figure, stood at the mouth of the entrance to delay any entries with his remarkable abilities; Xander stood opposite the older man, armed with an axe; Dawn stayed a bit behind her, just like Buffy preferred it; Faith, the other Slayer, stood by the window, relaxed but ready for a rumble. They all had wary looks on their faces, though Dawn seemed more interested in Whistler's clothing than his errand.

"Who are they?" Buffy asked suspiciously. "The others that are supposed to. . . fight with me? More from the Initiative?"

"No, no, nothing like that. Though one group is military-based, they aren't like the Initiative. They have a more interesting job."

"That's. . . not reassuring," Willow pointed out.

Whistler stopped toying with the picture frame, turning to face Buffy directly. "Yeah, well, you'll get to meet them soon enough. We, meaning the three that look after each group, decided to make Cleveland the rendezvous."

"You mean Cleveland as in here?" Xander gulped.

Whistler nodded. Buffy fumed. "And you were planning on telling me this when?"

"Now. Oh, don't get your Wonder Bra in a bunch, Slayer. The secrets are going to have to come out if there's to be any team unity. And I'm not bringing any untrustworthy demons," he added before Buffy could ask. "Though it's not for lack of trying. Those Gachnar demons refuse to cooperate after you crushed their leader into mush." He cocked his ear to the ceiling, then smiled. "Ah, here comes our first group now."

There was a flash of light outside, and with a 'stay here' look, Buffy went to the door. Looking to make sure everyone was ready for the worst, Buffy opened the door wide and slid into a defensive mode.

On her doorstep stood four people, blinking and looking about bewilderedly. One man with glasses turned to her and said, "Oh. Hello."

Buffy stared. _**These** are the people that are supposed to help me?_ "Hi."

An older man with gray hair also turned his attention to her. "We're looking for the 'Save the World Committee,'" he said. "I don't suppose you would be one of the members?"

Eyeing them warily, Buffy invited them in, leading the way into the living room. They carried in two large black boxes, depositing them in the foyer before entering. Buffy assured Giles and Xander they could lower their guard. The last man of the group, a dark-skinned man with a strange gold emblem on his forehead, gave them a cursory but cautious glance.

"Alright, now we're on a roll," Whistler clapped his hands together and advised, "Let's spare the introductions for when we're all here. Saves time and energy."

"You can take the couch," Dawn piped up, taking that her sister was not trying to shove stakes or swords into any of them as a sign that they were okay people. "You want anything? Soda, coffee?"

"That's alright," the gray-haired man smiled thinly, and the sole woman of the group grinned slightly.

With that, the eleven waited in the living room, avoiding each other tenaciously. Finally, after twenty minutes, Faith turned to Whistler and demanded, "When exactly was this third group supposed to show up, Whistle-Boy?"

Whistler shrugged. "I dunno. Rayden was always one to make an entrance. And don't call me Whistle-Boy."

"Whistler!" a loud voice yelled from within the house. That in itself put Buffy on guard; the thunder that coincided with the shout made it too paranormal to think of it as a simple intruder. Before she could settle into a proper guard a figure burst into the room.

The demon blinked and stared. "Rayden? Speak of the devil, what's the matter–"

Rayden's eyes scanned the room, but what he saw Buffy was uncertain of: the pupil-less eyes made her think he was either blind. . . or something else.

He apparently seemed satisfied with whatever he found. "Good, the rest are here. You want to know what is happening, I know," he interrupted before Giles could even part his lips. "For the time being settle for a practical demonstration and follow me. We have a problem."

Without another word he vanished. The sound of lightning striking made his exit eerier.

Buffy traded looks with her comrades, taken aback. The glasses-man asked, "Does he seem a little. . . strange?"

Whistler shook his head slowly. "He's flustered. Rayden flustered is never a good thing. You'd better go."

"Hold on," Gray-Haired man stood up from the couch. "How do we know we can trust that guy? Or you for that matter?"

"He's the Protector of Earth Realm," Whistler reprimanded. "Him attacking its inhabitants is an oxymoron. And now's not the time for paranoia. Now hurry, out back."

Uncertain, Buffy and her group led the way to the yard. Gray-Hair and his companions took time to stock up on weaponry before joining them.

Rayden was in the back, pacing in agitation. When the last person set foot on the grass he raised a hand and lightning jettisoned from his fingers. A blue circle roaring like a tornado formed in front of them.

"Go through!" Rayden hollered over the circle's sound. "You'll find yourselves in New York!"

"What are we fighting?" Faith yelled, holding a hand up to keep dirt from her eyes.

"Something not of this world," was Rayden's cryptic reply before he jumped through the portal.

"Well, wasn't that just informative," Gray-Haired man scowled. He turned to his team. "Alright, T-Murray, watch our six. Carter, you go in with me. Daniel, don't touch anything that has weird runes on it and for God's sake, try to stay in one piece."

Buffy took a liking to the man; he was a leader, like she was. Just with more formal training. Though she had suspicions about the 'Murray' fellow; he didn't seem like a Murray to her. "Willow, Xander, you're our back up, stay near the rear. Giles, Faith, you fight with me," she told her friends, then laid eyes on her sister. "You–"

"Are going," Dawn interrupted, hefting an axe she had swiped at the last moment. She rolled her eyes as the elder glared. "I'll be sure to watch my back, left, right, and front while sticking to Xander and Willow, okay Buffy?"

At any other time, Buffy would have thoroughly rebuked her and tied Dawn to a chair to keep her safe. The older Summers daughter knew, however, that her sister was as experienced as she was at her age. So instead of ordering Xander to keep Dawn safe, Buffy patted Dawn on the shoulder and said, "Okay, Dawn."

Grinning slightly at the stunned look on her sister's face, Buffy turned to the circle and was strongly reminded of three years ago, when she jumped off the tower in Sunnydale to save the world. Gulping, Buffy prayed that the ride was a smoother one and leapt.

* * *

_New York_

Colonel Jack O'Neill was not having a good day.

Of course, it all started last night when Daniel decided to call at eleven o'clock in the evening to inform him that Oma Desala had a mission for them. Then it snowballed from there when General Hammond had to throw some of his weight around to requisition firearms and other necessities.

Throw in a Senator Kinsey sticking his nose in business that he had no affairs sticking it in, the Tok'ra packing up and moving without so much as a heads up, the Goa'uld System Lords apparently taking some sort of siesta from their general worship tirade, a bright, flashy transporter beam, _no time_ to set his VCR to record _The Simpsons_, another mode of transportation that made a person's stomach do twists, shake well, and Jack O'Neill had his recipe for a _very_ bad day.

The circle that the Rayden character had created threw Jack into a dirty, wet street that smelled all-too-much like New York City. Jack looked up while his knees complained, and saw the blonde woman that had preceded him. If Jack remembered right, her name was 'Buffy'.

_What kind of name is that, anyway_, he groaned to himself as he stood.

He had the right idea to move out of the way; his second-in-command, Major Samantha Carter, fell through with as much grace as he did. Following her shortly was the brunette Buffy had called Faith and the old man identified as Giles.

Slowly, one by one, everyone came through. Even the oddly-dressed guy came through, the one called Whistler. He didn't strike Jack as the type who fought often.

"Damn you Rayden and your portals," Whistler was commenting as he rose to his feet, making Jack smirk. Looked like even the two buddies had issues with each other.

"So, where's the fight?" Faith demanded, strutting around with (to Jack's bewilderment) a sharp, pointy stick no longer than his forearm.

"Undoubtedly elsewhere," Giles answered the woman's question, straightening his glasses. "It would be bad luck to exit that. . . horrid vortex and land in the path of a down-swinging sword."

"O'Neill," Teal'c's voice brought Jack's attention to his right, away from the conversation. Teal'c had his head cocked and was listening intently to something. "I believe the fight is being waged on the other side of this building."

"Alright, Murray," Jack slid his P-90 into a more comfortable position and began to say, "Let's move out." He stopped when a high-pitched roar rang in the night air, shattering windows in the building.

"What the hell was that?" the one-eyed man known as Xander cried, uncovering his ears.

"Let's find out," Buffy said calmly, marching forward.

"Carter, get to the roof," Jack suggested, pointing up to the top of the closest building. "Anything gets too dangerous, snipe it."

Carter nodded sharply before taking off to the building's door, bringing with her the sniper rifle. With a nod to Daniel and Teal'c, Jack followed the petite blonde, trying to surreptitiously pass her with no success.

The group of ten rounded the street corner, the sounds of battle becoming louder and clearer. Human yells overlapped foreign roars, causing the group to quicken their pace. The mutual concern for civilians was in all their minds, with the exception of Whistler.

The reason for Whistler's indifference became apparent to Jack when he finished passing the building.

Six people were in the thick of the mess, but they weren't terrified or whimpering. They fought like crazy, using martial arts and other means to fend off the beasts.

Jack stared, having never seen stranger creatures before in his life. And considering his line of work, that said something.

They looked like elongated humans, with four appendages Jack hesitated to call arms, and stocky legs that supported the upper body well. The torso was thick and broad, covered in what appeared to be a black body suit. The head was a long oval shape, with two egg-shaped black eyes and a flat nose. The mouth seemed completely human, but periodically the inhumane screech vibrated out and made Jack want to cover his ears every time. How the six fought the things so close, Jack had no idea.

"You have any idea what these things are?" Jack asked Teal'c, wincing as another shriek deafened him.

"I have never seen the like before," even Teal'c grimaced at the noise.

"Ah well," Faith shrugged, having heard the answer while standing next to Jack. "A little mystery is always a blast." She bit her lip as a creature screamed. "But that damn noise is giving me a migraine."

"Willow, can you do anything about that?" Buffy yelled to her friend, who nodded with determination. Jack wondered what exactly the redhead meant to do, but started when her hair turned black with her eyes and she spouted something in Latin.

A black mist settled over the area, and while Jack could hear the screams, it had lessened in volume to a tolerable level. The six people continued to fight. A spattering of ammo made Jack look to the roof; Carter had joined the fight.

"Alright, slayage time," Buffy unhooked a rod from her belt and tightened her grip. To Jack's amazement, the rod grew in length and unsheathed a blade, revealing a scythe.

Buffy did not get her opportunity to slay, though, as an unperceivable force jostled them all back. The six in the midst of the fight were shoved fiercely away, level to Jack and the rest. The Screamers, as Jack dubbed the creatures, regrouped and charged for a fresh fight, murder glinting in their eyes.

"Sub-Zero, shield!" one of the six shouted.

An Asian man nodded and raised his hands, the heels of his palms touching, to the sky. A blue beam shot upwards and cascaded down in a dome shape, keeping the Screamers effectively out. The temperature, though, dropped noticeably.

"What's Stryker's ETA, Sonya?" the first yelled, paying little attention to the mass that was trying to break down the shield.

"Five minutes!" came the answer from a blonde woman.

"This won't hold that long!" the man creating the 'shield' informed them, sweat forming on his brow.

"Willow!" Buffy turned to her redhead-turned-brunette, "Can you do something to demolish the freaky guys?"

Willow squinted, then panted, "Something's wrong, something's drawing out my Black Magick, Buffy. I won't be able to control it much longer." As if to prove her point, a bolt of black lightning struck the ground near her, blasting a hole the size of a basketball.

A man with (Jack shivered) solid green eyes twisted his head, eyeing Willow. He detached himself from the six and grabbed Willow's hands. He whispered something to her that Jack could not hear, ignoring the increased pounding on the shield.

Jack's radio cackled. "Sir, rapid-ammo fire seems to be effective against these things, but I've attracted some attention. They're climbing up the wall and for every one I take out two take its place."

Though her voice was calm, Jack was not. He raised his eyes to the building Carter had situated herself on and found a thick clog of black covering the bricks. Flashes of light allowed him to locate her, and his stomach dropped. The distance between her and the enemy was lessening by the moment.

"We have to help her!" Daniel cried in his ear, spotting her predicament at the same time as Jack.

Just then a scream erupted from within their numbers. Turning, they saw the green-eyed man still holding Willow's hands, but Willow was no longer a redhead nor black-haired. Her black locks turned white, floating away from her face by an imperceptible wind. Her eyes stayed the same black, but the color shifted from hateful and cold to soothing and warm.

From her issued a wave of light tinted with yellow, sweeping past the shield and into the mass swarming against it. The Screamers's shrieks died away, and the bodies disintegrated. Willow closed her eyes and her hair snapped back to his normal color as she collapsed into the green-eyed man's arms. At the same time Sub-Zero lowered his arms as well, sweating and tired. The shield evaporated; the temperature rose.

The enemies on the ground were defeated, but that left the ones that had crawled up the wall to get at Carter. The flashes stopped, and Jack knew her ammo had run out. She had more magazines, but the precious moments it would take to reload would enable the Screamers to reach her.

He lifted his own gun to fire, but another beat him to the punch. A silver blur flashed through the Screamers, falling most of the enemy. Those that managed to cling to the wall had no time to scale any further as a human body slammed into them from above and knocked down the rest. Picking up his weapon—a baton—the man hit the still-living Screamers in the head. Red spilled into the street.

Movement nearer to him caused Jack to turn. The blonde woman reached up and pulled something out of her ears. "Well, Stryker has decided to finally join the party."

"So that's how you guys weren't keeling over in agony," Dawn piped up. What was apparent to the girl was unapparent to Jack, until she elaborated, "You wore earplugs."

"Quite useful," a beautiful brunette woman confirmed, pulling out hers.

A black man nodded in agreement. He eyed the large group critically. "So, you're the help Rayden was talking about?"

"Whoa," Faith raised her hands, insulted. "Who said anything about _us_ being the help? _You_ guys are the help."

Jack ignored the growing argument, still concerned with the other member of his team. "Carter, you alright?"

The answer came a moment later. "Fine, sir. The man. . . Well, you probably saw."

"Yeah, I saw. You coming down?"

"I'm on the last staircase. Be there in three minutes."

Nodding in satisfaction, Jack returned his attention to the others. Daniel and Teal'c had wisely stayed out of the growing antagonism between Faith and the black man. Daniel and the green-eyed man kneeled over Willow and checked her vitals, declaring to a hovering Xander and Buffy that she would be fine. Teal'c stood apart from the crowd, keeping a sharp vigil on his surroundings; nothing short of _Star Wars_ and ice cream could make the man relax.

The first man from the six, another Asian, took out his own earplugs and smiled faintly at everyone, also ignoring the rising debate. "Thanks for coming here when you did. Without her," he nodded to Willow, "I'm not sure we would have beaten them."

Carter's figure slowly separated from the darkness of the building, joining them cautiously. "I took a look around the block, sir," Carter reported. "None surviving or forming for a second attack."

Finally, having taken his time to ensure the safety of his friends, Stryker approached his group, shaking his head at them. "You know, I really was looking forward to that vacation in Maui tomorrow. Had the tickets bought and everything."

"Maui's rotten this time of year anyhow," Sonya replied unsympathetically. "Does anyone have _any_ idea what's going on?"

Everyone traded looks. "We're not entirely sure ourselves," Giles admitted in his British accent, taking his glasses off and rubbing them clean; the action reminded Jack of Daniel. "All we know is that something is threatening Earth's safety and our three groups are to protect it."

"So, in other words, we know absolutely squat," Stryker stated.

"Less than eloquent, but yes," the green-eyed man nodded. Upon closer inspection, Jack realized he was of Native American descent. "Rayden was about to transport us to get a full explanation, but the plans changed."

"Speaking of the deity," Whistler stepped forward, straightening his hat, "Any of you know where he is? I'd like to have a few. . . choice words with him."

The group of seven stared at him, all of them except one shrugging. Stryker said, "We don't like to know his whereabouts. That makes it all too easy for him to walk up to us and throw us into trouble. Such as now."

"Aren't you guys just thrilled about helping to save the world," Xander quipped, kneeling beside Willow.

Several from the seven and Jack himself scowled and exclaimed, "We didn't _help_ save the world, we _did_ save the world!" Then looks of surprise focused on each other.

"Maybe we should start from the beginning," Whistler cut in suavely, sensing a fight developing. "Better yet, let's find a place to get comfortable and talk this out."

Buffy glared at him. "Such as my place?"

"So nice of you to volunteer, Slayer!"

Buffy barely managed to rein in the desire to punch the demon when Faith said, "Excuse me if I'm wrong, but we're in New York, right? How're we supposed to get to Cleveland?"

Whistler paused. "Well, we find a way to contact Rayden and have him open a," he shuddered, "a portal for us."

The group of seven looked at one another. "I got him last time," Kitana reminded them.

"I'm still keeping an eye on the girl," the Indian gestured toward Willow.

"I wound up calling this insufferable ass," Sonya jerked her thumb at Stryker, earning herself a glare.

"I called Rayden the time before Kitana," Jax claimed.

"I'm not doing it," Sub-Zero informed them flatly.

Liu looked at Stryker. "Rock, paper, scissors?"

Stryker sighed. "Fine. Two out of three. But if you win, you have to call him."

"Same here."

The two played two rounds, both of which Stryker won. "Crap," Stryker swore. He grumbled, kicked invisible dirt, and walked off, probably to have some privacy. Liu seemed to be unfazed, undoubtedly used to the man's idiosyncrasies.

A moan brought everyone's attention away from the sulky Stryker to a wakening Willow. She blinked a few times before realizing she was on the ground, looking up at Xander, Daniel, and the Indian. She squeaked, "I'm okay."

"That's good," Xander grinned as he helped her up. "We were worried we'd no longer have our babbling Willow to make the awkward voids even more awkward."

She smiled at that, but then spotted the Indian. "You. You helped me."

He grinned. "Nightwolf, to be more specific. But yes, I helped you. Otherwise your Black Magick would have made us all fried human beings. And I prefer living."

"Wait a minute," Sonya raised her hand. "Black Magick? You're joking, right Nightwolf? That doesn't exist on Earth."

The man raised a brow at her. "Oh yes, Sonya. Black Magick _certainly_ doesn't exist on Earth. It has about the same amount of chances of existing here as, well, humans who can change into dragons."

Her look of triumph was brief; Jack narrowed his eyes as she sighed and conceded, "Your point."

"Hang on," Jack raised a hand, frowning at Sonya. "You're giving into this? This. . . Magick? Dragons? That's ridiculous."

"Jack," Daniel looked at him with _that_ look.

The Colonel turned his frown on him. "Daniel."

"Jack." The look became more intense.

He shifted. "Daniel?"

A sigh came. "Jack."

Finally, he decided the archaeologist's argument had sound foundation. After all, he _had_ seen weirder things enter the realm of actuality. He rolled his eyes and muttered, "Fine, Daniel."

The man addressed as Sub-Zero snorted. "Americans."

Faith tilted her head at him. "Better watch out. I might take that as an insult and decide to kick your ass back to whatever country you came from."

Sub-Zero barely granted her an eye roll. "I know a Thunder God who has taken a liking to stealing my chow mein and throwing me in a war every couple of months. Pardon me if I'm not frightened."

A shouted expletive made everyone turn sharply. Stryker was storming back to the group, a dark look on his face and muttering under his breath. Jack suspected it was nothing the youngster Dawn should hear.

"Damn you, Liu," Stryker told him as he rejoined them.

He blinked. "What'd I do?"

"I'm not sure, but damn you anyway. Rayden opened a portal on the other side of the street," he added at their inquiring looks. "Said these others would know where it would be."

Jack traded looks with his comrades and shrugged. "Alright, then. It's a 'Just follow the yellow brick road' moment. Murray, if you'd do the honors of watching our six, I'd feel much safer."

As everyone fell into pace, unconsciously drawing nearer to those they knew best with the exception of Teal'c, Jack heard Stryker mutter, "If he's a Murray, then I'm a Ron Perlman."

* * *

If anyone can catch the inside joke hidden somewhere in this chapter (hint: within at least the last 5 lines) then you're just as much a DOTR fan as I am. Be proud. Or afraid. Whichever you choose is most appropriate.


	3. Chapter 3: Meeting of the Finest

ChapterThree at your service._

* * *

_

_Cleveland, Buffy Summers Residence_

Liu Kang watched as the last man, Murray, fell through. The Mortal Kombat Champion tentatively shared Stryker's notion that there was no way the man could be named Murray. It just didn't fit right.

The Champion looked his friends over, making sure none were silently bearing an injury. They all seemed fine, though Sub-Zero looked a bit weary from the heat and overuse of his chi and Stryker was busy grumbling under his breath about the portal. Mostly Liu only saw well-concealed aggravation, and undoubtedly the irritation was directed toward whatever new threat was gracing Earth Realm rather than their new comrades.

They had only just finished defeating Shao Kahn and ensuring safety from future invasions by Outworld a month ago, and now they were back on the front lines again. Stryker hadn't been the only one to be looking forward to a vacation; Liu had bought tickets for Kitana and himself for a cross-country trip, beginning tomorrow.

Jax and Sonya, while not exactly enjoying a vacation in Maui like Stryker, were settling back into their normal, everyday life as Special Forces agents. Liu had even heard from Jax that Sonya had bought a dress—a _real_ dress—to wear to a government function coming up in a few days.

Sub-Zero had ensconced himself in China's mountains, but somehow managed to send out letters every week to reassure the others of his health and prevent a mass-hunt for the ninja. Nightwolf had done a similar thing, except in the Pacific Northwest and secluded himself far less than the reclusive ninja.

Everyone had looked forward to a future of peace, normality, and the occasional visit from Rayden (and by extension a coffee—or chow mein—theft). No one wanted another Mortal Kombat to arise, but they all knew the chances were astoundingly high for this generation.

Liu wondered briefly whether his ancestor Kung Lao had dealt with such blatant disregard for the rules of the Kombat as this era.

The older man of the entire group, Colonel Jack O'Neill if Liu read the tag right, held back to make sure his team was alright after the rough ride. Liu felt respect for the others, knowing that a journey through the portal was no picnic but still kicked up less fuss than Stryker did.

A petite blonde whom Liu had missed the name of led the way into the house and arranged seating for everyone. Considering the seventeen (eighteen if you counted the oddly-dressed man who remained standing) people, it was quite a tough fit. Eventually O'Neill's team except O'Neill himself sat on the couch, joined by the youngest of the whole group. A British man almost O'Neill's age stood by the doorway leading to the foyer with a young brunette woman that appeared tougher than Liu felt she was; Sub-Zero took a place by them, hating to be caught unawares.

Willow sat at a dining table set apart from the living room opposite of Nightwolf, who had yet to separate with Kiva. Xander sat beside the red-head, one hand squeezing hers reassuringly. Sonya and Jax took places in chairs dragged out of the kitchen, and Stryker stood near the doorway to the backyard, looking outside.

Kitana stood at Liu's right near the fireplace, both providing and taking comfort. O'Neill sat on the arm of the couch closest to the mantle, arms folded and a look of contemplation on his face. The blonde woman took a place between Liu and O'Neill, directly in front of the fireplace's grate.

The oddly-dressed man was opposite of her, looking around at everyone as if taking a headcount. When he appeared satisfied, he clapped his hands and said, "Alright, now that we're all here, I think we can get started on proper introductions."

Silence followed. Then the young woman sitting on the couch piped, "I feel like I'm back in kindergarten."

Murmurs of consent echoed her statement. Then the petite blonde sighed. "Well, I'm Buffy Summers. That," she pointed to the one who spoke first, "is my sister, Dawn. The brunette's Faith, a Slayer-in-arms, I guess. The British guy next to her is Giles, my mentor. Willow is the Wiccan-bad-ass of the group, and sitting with her is Xander, our anchor-guy that keeps us all grounded in normalcy. Oh, and that's Whistler," she added as a meaningless afterthought.

Liu thanked the Elder Gods he was so good with names; he suspected not many of the others were. "I'm Liu Kang," he pointed to each person in turn, "this is Kitana, that's Nightwolf, Lieutenant Sonya Blade, Major Jax Briggs, Sub-Zero, and Captain Stryker."

"And that just leaves us," Jack quipped. "Colonel Jack O'Neill, Major Samantha Carter, Dr. Daniel Jackson, and Murray–"

"Jack, I really don't think secrecy is going to be much of an issue here," Daniel interrupted. "You remember what Oma said about 'giving faith and having faith'."

Jack frowned at the man, then threw up his hands. "Fine, fine. His real name's Teal'c, not Murray."

Buffy tilted her head. "That's so much better. There was no way he could pull off a Murray. That name is so. . . not him."

Jack bristled. "What do you mean? It's a perfect name for him. Right, guys?" he turned to his team for support.

Daniel jumped at being addressed, then started hemming and looking anywhere but Jack's face. Sam grinned uncertainly then said, "It is a little. . . unorthodox, sir."

Teal'c just raised a brow and tilted his head a notch.

Jack blinked at his unhelpful team, then grumbled, "Well, you just don't have culture."

"Excuse the interruption to the banter," Sonya broke in, "but why exactly are we here and not at home, doing things other than saving the world? Again?"

The large group turned to Whistler. He shifted. "Well, you already met those. . . screaming things, and that's the bulk of what you're going to fight. But there's of course the menace behind it all–"

"And would we have a name for this menace?" Jack inquired lightly.

"Hanbi," came the answer, but not from Whistler's mouth. Instead another figure emerged from the hallway, munching carelessly on an apple.

"Whoa," Liu rested a hand on Buffy's shoulder; the woman had tensed into a battle position. "That's Rayden. Not a wise move to hit him."

"Not a wise move to be rude to me either," the Thunder God grumbled, glaring sidelong at Stryker. "Next time you 'summon' me, be sure to restrain the insults."

The man turned away from the backyard scenery to roll his eyes at him. "Complain to Liu. He's the one that lost."

Daniel squinted through his glasses, then his facial features relaxed. "Sumerian god of evil and king of the evil spirits. That's who Hanbi is," he added when everyone peered at him.

"Ooh, I remember him," Willow's face brightened. "He used to cause all sorts of bad, destructive wars in the ancient world. . ." Willow drifted off, face falling as she realized what she was saying, ". . . and that is not in the least bit cool, 'cause he's all evil and king of evilness."

"Definitely sounds like our kind of Big Bad, though," Xander quipped.

"Unfortunately so," Giles agreed quietly.

"So, how do I kill him?" Buffy chirped, relaxing from Rayden's induced apprehension.

"Hang on," Jack protested. "What do you mean, how do _you_ kill him? We're the ones that are going to be doing any killing," he motioned to his team.

"Hey, pal," Faith threw the man a dirty look, "you have nice guns and all, but me and Buffy here, we deal with the supernatural. So buzz off."

Liu kept back as the two groups went at it, arguing back and forth as to why theirs were the better group for the job. Kitana leaned in and whispered, "Shouldn't we stop them from fighting?"

"I'm Mortal Kombat Champion, not a miracle worker." At Kitana's frown, Liu sighed and shouted, "Everyone, calm down!"

Eventually his demand was met; Faith and Jack took the longest to settle, glaring at each other as though the other were stepping on their territory. Liu continued on, "We have a common enemy. And I don't know about you, but we rarely have an opportunity to work alongside others to beat a. . . Big Bad, as Xander puts it. So why don't we try cooperating, rather than segregating into our own little groups?"

Hesitantly, nods exhibited approval. Buffy, however, peered at Whistler and asked so lightly that Liu knew it was a fabrication, "And what do the Powers That Be say? I thought the Slayer was supposed to be a one-Champion show."

"Slayer this, Slayer that, Slayer everything," Sonya interrupted grouchily. "What the hell is a 'Slayer' anyway? Some sort of Superman?"

"Supergirl, actually," Buffy retorted. "What's the big long speech again, Giles? 'One girl in all the world,' that thing?"

"Into each generation a Slayer is born," Giles began reciting absently, "One girl in all the world, a Chosen One. One born with the strength and skill to–"

"Bottom line it for us, would ya?" Jack cried, grimacing. It reminded the Colonel of all the times Sam or Daniel would drone on about a theory.

Giles seemed annoyed at the interruption, but did grant Jack his request. "She is a Vampire Slayer. One who fights, obviously, vampires as well as demons and other paranormal, evil creatures."

Silence. Then Jack said, "Oookay. I'm just going to pretend I believe all that."

A snort came from Stryker's direction. "Why did I get up this morning? I had that feeling. Whenever I have that feeling, nothing goes well. So why?"

"Because you're a sucker for that first sip of coffee, just like the rest of us," Jax informed him somberly. The conversation was an old one, it appeared to the others.

"Well, since you guys all know my– er, Faith's and my deals, what about yours?" Buffy folded her arms over her chest. "I won't feel good about going up against Hanbi if I have no clue who's backing me up. Or leading the way," she added quickly at Jack's dark look.

Jack looked pointedly at Liu, hoping to keep the U.S.'s greatest secret just that: secret. Liu, noticing the look and preferring to stay on everyone's good (or better) side, stated, "I'm Mortal Kombat Champion."

The statement was met with blank, "Huh?"s from most everyone. Only Liu's group, Whistler, Daniel and Giles were aware of the full-meaning.

"I thought that was just folklore," Daniel frowned, and Giles said, "So it is true."

Buffy turned to her mentor. "Sooo, what's a Mortal Kombat Champion?"

"Mortal Kombat is a tournament," Liu explained for him, "held once every generation. The greatest fighters are gathered in one place and fight until one comes out on top. I was the lucky winner this generation."

"Excuse me," Rayden glared. "I suspect that my training you has more to do with it than your 'luck'."

"If you insist," was Liu's dry reply.

"So, what's the big deal about that?" Faith shrugged. "Sounds like one of those cheap shindigs I went to while touring the world."

"Except they probably never included maniacal Emperors from another Realm trying to invade Earth and nearly succeeding," Sonya growled morbidly.

"Twice," came Stryker's input.

Buffy blinked. "How come I was never asked? Aren't I one of those greatest fighters in the world?"

"Would you have liked to deal with the Master, an egomaniacal tyrant, high school, _and_ your mother all at the same time?" Rayden asked blandly.

Blanching, Buffy shook her head furiously.

"Then don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"So what's your deal?" Jax asked of the Colonel, delicately sidestepping any further inquiries toward Buffy. "How are two Air Force officers, a Doctor, and. . . whoever _Teal'c_ is, going to save the world?"

Eyes riveted onto them, everyone curious. Xander, Buffy, Willow, and Giles seemed extra interested in their explanation.

Jack looked at Sam, who looked at Teal'c, who looked at Daniel. Daniel looked frantically at the three of them and gulped, "Me?"

"You, Danny," Jack smirked. "You remember, 'giving faith and having faith' and whatever other nonsense Oma spouted."

Daniel scratched his head and sighed. "Well, alright. We work in a top-secret government facility known as the Stargate Command."

Jack thought this was mighty furtive of the archaeologist. He was about to commend the man when Nightwolf perked. "Stargate Command? Huh."

Turning his attention to him warily, Jack asked, "And what's that mean?"

Nightwolf was slightly taken aback by the demand, but answered it easily, "I accidentally hacked into computers belonging to a program of that name a while ago. Didn't stay long, though, I had other things to do."

Sam sputtered, "You _hacked_ into our computers? How much did you get?"

Shifting guiltily, Nightwolf answered, "Enough to know that it's not 'deep space radar telemetry' you're working on. And to know what he is," he nodded to Teal'c.

Jack fumed. There went their cover. "Aren't you Native American?" he scowled. "Believer in that whole 'magick' concept? And what's with the eyes anyway? Wrong prescription?"

It was Nightwolf's turn to scowl. "Stereotypes, Colonel, are hardly appealing. And while I am quite masterful at hacking into government computers, I do believe in the spiritual side of things as well. As for my eyes," he seemed to consider. "I ought to release him now, the danger's gone anyway."

He closed his eyes and a look of concentration came over him. A bright flash of green light exploded, and when everyone's eyes cleared a wolf sat before Nightwolf, tail wagging happily.

"Amazing!" Willow exclaimed, leaning closely. "Is this your familiar?"

"Companion is a term I like better, but the concept is the same," Nightwolf nodded, patting the wolf's head.

Stryker groaned. "Can't you go anywhere without that mutt, Nightwolf?"

The Native American chose not to reply.

Dawn, meanwhile, was peering at Teal'c. "What did he mean by knowing _what_ you are? Are you some sort of. . . demon?"

Teal'c continued to look straight forward as he said, "I am not a demon. I am a Jaffa."

Attention swerved back to those on the couch. "Alright," Xander jibed, "I'll bite. What's a Jaffa?"

Daniel ran a hand through his hair, mumbling, "An alien race taken from Earth and bred to carry. . . other larvae aliens."

Gaping, Willow stammered, "_Aliens_? You work with _aliens_?"

"'Work' is such a strong word," Jack drawled. "It's more like 'blowing them up' and 'stepping on their toes'."

"Great," Sonya snorted. "Vampire Slayers, alien hunters, and kombatants all together under one roof to kick the latest tyrant's ass. Can I just say this is the craziest, most out-of-this-world experience yet?"

"So we all know each other and what our purposes in life are," Giles said, wiping his glasses. "What are we all intended to do _together_? We barely understand each other's capabilities and weaknesses. We would be detrimental to each other in battle, not without some training."

"He's right," Sam nodded. "We would wind up stepping on each other's toes and give Hanbi a greater advantage."

"So, what do we do?" Xander asked. "Lie down and say, 'Heil Hanbi?' Unless you intended this whole thing as a huge, funny-yet-not prank?" he asked Rayden and Whistler.

Rayden stopped biting down on his apple to think. "Hmm. Great idea. I need some material for the next April Fool's Day–"

"NO!" Liu, Nightwolf, Kitana, Sonya, Jax, Sub-Zero, and Stryker shouted. Kiva barked his agreement.

Huffing, Rayden went on, "Fine, fine. Sheesh, a little sensitive much? Like I said before, your enemy is Hanbi. He plans on coming to Earth and destroying everything in sight. Obviously, your goal is to stop him from accomplishing that. Whether you kill him or not," he said with a nod to Buffy, "is moot. As long as he's out of the way."

"How big a threat is he?" Sam inquired.

Rayden paused, juggling numbers in his head. "If left unchecked, he'll whittle Earth down to its core two hours after his arrival. That's after he annihilates everything living, rips out all raw material, and abducts all those he deems worthy to become slaves. Give or take a few minutes, of course."

"Joy," Buffy breathed. "It couldn't be something small, like the Mayor o-or the Nerds. It has to be Glory-sized."

"Where _is_ this Hanbi guy, Rayden?" Stryker finally left his corner to obtain a better angle. "All this time you've let us ramble, let us get an ounce of what he's all about, and yet you haven't given us a single clue about his whereabouts. Usually it's very plain where the enemy is, yet I haven't seen any cities being overrun by otherworldly beings or huge faces in the sky."

Whistler took pity on the Thunder God, choosing to answer this question, "He's in a hell dimension."

* * *

_12:03 A.M._

Daniel lay in his bed quietly, listening to Jack's snores and Sam rustling in her bed. Teal'c was the only one out of the three asleep able to stay still and noiseless, his breathing deep and even and his arms folded comfortably over his pouch.

The archaeologist couldn't sleep. Too much had happened to sleep. His mind worked overtime, going over the details he learned. Gods, vampires, hell dimensions, demons? All of it was out of his area of expertise, out of all of SG-1's, to be truthful. He assumed Sam had picked the subject to pieces before her mental capacity fell apart, dragging her to the dream world.

The truth of the matter was, Buffy's line of work was more akin to Liu's than either were to SG-1's. Life at the SGC was relatively reasonable, or at least scientific. The Ascended and parallel universes were about as close to mysticism as they usually got, and that was only on a spectacularly bad day.

The Slayer and Champion both seemed comfortable with the thought of magick, gods, and dimensions. If SG-1 were going to contribute anything other than grunt work to the fight, they would have to start thinking outside their soothing box of physics and alien technology.

And that, Daniel knew for certain, would be something to which Jack, much less Sam, would have difficulty acceding.

Daniel sighed mentally. He _wanted_ to sleep, but the situation with Hanbi kept nagging at him. He wanted to make sure he did everything he could to help his friends and new comrades. He refused to sit on the sidelines anymore and let his friends wade through trouble without him. While Ascended, Daniel hated to 'look in' on SG-1 too often. It made him ache whenever he saw them planning an escape from their latest prison.

Sitting up, Daniel gave into the urge for coffee. He had missed the hot beverage, but of course Ascended beings didn't need the brew. After all, they had no real physical form and thus no need to provide nutrients to a body.

Being dead sucked, was Daniel's summary of his Ascension.

Trekking to the kitchen quietly, Daniel prayed that no one woke up because of him. While Buffy had been gracious enough to open her household and its amenities to all, he suspected it wouldn't go so far as to interrupting their beauty sleep just so he could have a cup of hot, black, caffeinated coffee. The anticipation of having caffeine running through his veins made Daniel shiver with anticipation.

However, upon reaching the kitchen, Daniel found he was only the second person to hunt for coffee. Stryker sat at the table, mug in hand and dazing into the night as though searching for something important.

Daniel helped himself to an already-prepared pot, making barely enough noise to stir Stryker out of his stupor. "Hello," Daniel smiled. "Just wanted some coffee, I didn't want to scare you."

Stryker smirked. "The last thing I would be afraid of is a coffee-addicted insomniac."

Daniel blinked. "What?"

Motioning to the mug, Stryker explained, "The way you hold that screams 'addicted.' And I think you know what an insomniac is."

Daniel shook himself out of his reverie. "Ah, yes. Sorry, looks like drowsiness did catch me."

The two went back to their mugs, drinking in silence. Daniel asked, "What brought you down here?"

Contemplatively taking a sip, Stryker lowered the mug to the tabletop. "Eight hours of sleep is too novel a concept. I'm adjusting, but with this new debacle I have a feeling being able to stay awake for three days and still function is a better tool than sleeping."

Daniel grimaced. "Sounds rough."

Shrugging, Stryker replied, "You get used to it."

"And Buffy complains about me drinking all the coffee," a female voice entered the fray. Looking up, they saw Dawn approach. She took her own mug, filled it, and sat with them after adding sugar and cream. "So, whatcha two talking about?"

"The necessities of sleep and how we do without," Stryker answered dryly.

Dawn nodded sagely. "Sounds like a Scooby research party."

"'Scooby'?" Daniel asked confusedly.

"You know, Scooby Doo and his band of mystery-solvers," Dawn rolled her eyes. "Grown-ups these days. You guys are as bad as Giles; at least you don't have the British accent."

Neither Stryker nor Daniel knew how to reply to that. So instead they drank their coffees deeply.

Dawn eyed the two men, wondering who to chat up first. She chose one. "So, how'd you 'summon' Rayden?" she asked Stryker. "Some sort of incantation or spell?"

Stryker choked on his coffee and took a minute to wipe his chin before answering. "Nothing like that. Don't know how to do any of that."

"Then how?" Daniel prompted, just as curious. "Was it technology you developed? Unless you know. . . magic, as well?"

Glaring between the two, Stryker lifted his wrist and revealed a watch-like device. "It's a communicator. Nightwolf built them for simple communication across and between Realms."

Dawn leaned across the table, looking at the device. "So cool," Dawn whispered. "We _so_ need one of those things. Buffy keeps forgetting to bring her cell, plus it costs money to pay for them—" Stopping abruptly, Dawn blushed and sat back down. "Uh, just . . . just forget I was talking. I'm just a teen babbling Valley-speak that no adult ever understands."

Daniel and Stryker traded looks, agreeing silently to drop the topic like she wanted. "Nightwolf would probably be thrilled to make a few more," Stryker said. "He always likes showing off his new tech."

"Sam would probably like a look at the device," Daniel added. "She loves tinkering with new technology."

"If you're talkin' tech, you'd better get Will in on the action," Faith waltzed into the kitchen, looking as energetic as ever even at the dead of night. She accepted the coffee Dawn offered with enthusiastic thanks, sitting beside the younger woman to drink. "She's got a brain the size of Einstein's, even if she does the voodoo more often nowadays."

A silence overcame them, slightly awkward with uncertainty and coyness. They all sipped at their coffees, though Faith chugged her drink a little louder than the others.

"A hell dimension," Daniel severed the quiet. "We have to go to a hell dimension. Is anyone else worried? I've been to a world molded after Hell, but that wasn't anything close to a dimension."

"Buffy went to a hell dimension before," Dawn piped up, running a thumb around the rim of her mug. "She didn't stay very long, of course. And her first boyfriend went to one and was there for, like, months. He was kinda crazy afterwards—well, craz_ier_."

Stryker shrugged. "Once you've seen hell on Earth, it dulls the experience."

"All too true." The four turned around, seeing the fifth person come in. Kitana sat at the table but declined a cup of coffee. "Some people's worst nightmares are already lived."

"Got that straight," Faith nodded, a haunted look fogging her eyes. She shook herself clear of reminiscing to ask Kitana, "You sure you don't want anything? I'm pretty sure we got some tea around here, Giles always goes ballistic without some good Brit tea."

Kitana smiled. "Tea would be nice, thank–"

The room erupted in white. When the glare faded, four steaming mugs of coffee sat in front of five empty chairs.

* * *

Oooh, a cliffie. What will happen next, where did they go, what does this Hanbi guy want (aside from world domination, because that's just stereotypical)? Well, hopefully I'll know sometime soon; vague outlines aren't very helpful in that department.

I'm not completely horrified with this chapter, but there may be some revisions in the future. I'd also like to apologize about SG-1's reaction; I know they should have been more hush-hush-Don'tSpeakAboutTheTopSecretProject, but I needed everyone to get the major things (i.e. how they save the world on a regular basis) out into the open. I'll try to keep their reactions a little more believable in the future.

The next chapter might not come as readily as these last two did; I have to do some heavy fixing and revisioning so that it doesn't completely suck and be all Mary Sue/Gary Stu ish.


	4. Chapter 4: The Face of the Enemy

Again, inform me of any bad plot points. I will listen if you have a point; that's how chapters getrevised.

Here's Chapter 4:

* * *

_7:14 A.M._

Buffy stalked the kitchen, glaring at the table as though it had offended her. Four coffee mugs rested on the table innocuously, their owners blatantly missing.

Liu Kang came down the stairs, face taut with worry. "I can't find Stryker or Kitana, and Jack can't find Daniel. I don't know about Daniel, Dawn, or Faith, but neither Stryker nor Kitana have left for a morning jog."

"How do you know that?" Xander growled. Dawn meant a lot to him, to everyone, and Faith was one of their friends. The rude morning awakening was not welcome.

"Kitana hates morning runs. And Stryker never leaves without his cap," Liu held up the hat. "It doesn't matter if he makes a run to the mailbox, he doesn't leave without this."

"Kidnapped, then?" Willow gulped. She was growing nervous and trying to repress the feeling. Nervous Willow meant Babbling Willow, and right now Buffy didn't need Babbling Willow.

"I'd say so," Jack stormed in, face mirroring his mood. Behind him Sam and Teal'c marched a pace slower, both concerned.

"How?" Xander whispered. "How could they have gotten in? We have wards, defenses. Right, Willow?"

"Right," Willow nodded hurriedly, then added with just as much reluctance, "But none of them went off."

Finishing her fifth tour of the kitchen in seven minutes, Buffy slammed her fist down on the counter in frustration. Her fist left a crater on the linoleum. Noticing her aggravation, Giles chose to calm his Slayer down. "Buffy, we will find them. Dawn is safe. She has Faith with her, and three others. We will find the ones responsible and make sure it doesn't happen again."

Sonya and Nightwolf filed in, looking tired. Liu sailed to their sides and demanded, "Did you find them?"

Upon discovering their comrades missing, they had gone to their old headquarters to locate Stryker and Kitana via the communicators they wore. Sonya disappointed them by shaking her head. "Whoever has them, they were smart enough to kill the signal. We can't even get a general location from the communicators."

Groans filled the kitchen, everyone either collapsing in disappointment or slamming fists in anger. Buffy and Jack were two of the latter.

"Everyone calm down!" Giles roared over the ensuing chaos. He shooed them out of the kitchen, as it was too small to fit twelve people and too defenseless against Buffy's unchecked rage. When everyone had taken a seat, he began, "Our first order of business is to find them. Willow, see if you can devise a location spell to fit a wider range than just Earth and get past whatever wards the enemy has against detection. Nightwolf, if you could help her. . ."

Nightwolf nodded obligingly and the two left the room for Willow's bedroom. Giles turned to Sam. "While they look for things in the magical sense, a scientific approach could be useful."

"I'll check and see if there is any residual energy signatures we can trace," Sam barely gave her CO an askance look before taking off to the equipment they dragged to a closet in the foyer.

Xander took a look around the room, sensing the jaded atmosphere. "How about some donuts? Donuts are good for the wounded soul and all that."

Giles nearly scolded the younger man for such an unhelpful suggestion. He realized after a moment that morale was low, and certainly no one was in the mood for coffee. "If Major Briggs would be so kind as to drive you, Xander, I'm sure we would all appreciate it. I hate to imagine what sort of wreck you'd be in, driving with just one eye," he interrupted as Xander made to protest.

Xander grumbled a bit, but relented as Jax waved him on. Once those two left, Giles took stock of the remaining people. Jack and Buffy both looked ready to strangle the one responsible, and while Liu was calmer about it the former Watcher knew he was in the same boat. Sonya looked bone-weary, and Teal'c. . . Teal'c looked as though he were watching a shut-off television set. If it were at all possible, Sub-Zero seemed more impassive than the Jaffa.

Spending just a second on wondering what sort of name Sub-Zero was, Giles said, "Aside from researching our newest enemy, there is nothing else we can do."

"No, Giles, there has to be something," Buffy shot out of her seat, eyes glittering. "There's got to be a baddie that knows something. This Hanbi guy did _not_ just come out of nowhere, someone has to know _something_ about him."

"And beating the tar out of him will not get us Dawn back," Giles ignored the cover. "If you want to help your sister, you must stay calm and focus on obtaining _reliable_ information."

Still fuming, Buffy stormed to the windows, glaring out into the morning mist. Giles chose to let her do so, saying to the rest, "If anyone has any suggestions as to our next course of action, it would be well-received right about now."

Sub-Zero rose from his seat. "Meditation is appealing right now. I'll see if I can contact Rayden through it." He turned to Liu. "You coming?"

The Champion shook his head solemnly, and with a relenting shrug Sub-Zero left for a quieter spot.

Willow and Nightwolf bustled in twenty minutes later, the latter carrying a box full of jars and candles. The wolf trailed behind the Indian regally, head held high. As Willow and Nightwolf set up the equipment, the wolf changed directions and sat beside Buffy, ears erect. Buffy glanced down at the wolf, feeling a twinge of concern. "He doesn't–"

"Kiva doesn't bite on a whim, contrary to Stryker's claims," said Nightwolf, anticipating her question. "As long as you don't cause him harm, he is quite content to sit and comfort."

Buffy regarded the wolf for a minute longer before setting a hand in the valley between his ears. He closed his eyes as she rubbed and murmured, "Heavens knows I need some comfort right about now."

The others watched as Willow and Nightwolf prepared the locator spell. Jack inquired, "How does this work, exactly?"

"Oh, I just add a few ingredients together, chant a bit, throw it in the fireplace, chant some more, and it gives me a, well, a faery to point me the way," Willow explained bubbly. "Since it's more than likely that they're in the hell dimension with Hanbi, we'll have to settle for a downscaled version of the universe." She held up a yellow ball, with different-colored dots. "Each of these is labeled a certain dimension that I've discovered with extensive research. If the faery doesn't point to one of these, then I'll look up a few more, add them on, and do the spell again."

"Trial and error," Teal'c summarized.

"Exactamundo," Willow nodded, eyes bright, then dimmed as she added hurriedly, "But it's better than trial and error, since we have so many choices already."

"And your role in all this is?" Sonya asked of Nightwolf as she watched him organize leaves and minerals.

"Willow explained to me her magick," Nightwolf told her. "I'm here to make sure she doesn't go completely. . . er–"

"Black, veiny, evil Willow," the redhead winced. "Did that once, not in a hurry to repeat the experience." She looked around in alarm. "He-ey, where's Xander? He's like my rock, I can't do my voodoo without my rock."

"He went out to get us something to eat," Giles assured her. "He'll come back soon."

"Oh," Willow smiled sheepishly, turning to her task. "Right."

Minutes passed in silence; the only noise came from Willow and Nightwolf's work and Sam in the kitchen running her tests. The two by the fireplace declared themselves done preparing and began completing the actual spell.

Everything went according to Willow's plan: she added all the right ingredients at the right time, and said everything correctly. With a burst of yellow and an aroma of rotten eggs, a ball of yellow light drifted out of the fire, wavering in the air.

"Whoa," Jack intoned, staring.

"Now what?" Liu asked, watching the light suspiciously.

"Now it should show us the way," Willow coughed as the nauseating smell stuck to her. "Show us the way, little faery!" she encouraged the ball, waving her hands about to emphasize the point.

Stubbornly it did nothing but float. Just as Nightwolf was ready to announce it a no-go, the orb zoomed to the ball he held and exploded.

Coughing harder, Willow sat up from her fallen position and squinted through the smoke. She heard the others stirring around her. Sam and Sub-Zero rushed in, the former worry-faced and the latter vigilant.

"What the _devil_ was that?" Jack exclaimed, rising to his feet. Kiva bounded over to his companion, nuzzling his face and licking the oily fumes off.

"Kiva, I'm okay," Nightwolf pushed the wolf gently aside, shaking his head clear.

"I- I don't know," Willow stammered, feeling her nerves rattle. "It's never done that before. . ."

"And how many times did you do this before?" Sonya growled.

Preferring not to answer with the truthful "Once," Willow set about trying to see if any of her remaining ingredients seemed spoiled. "I don't understand, nothing appears wrong."

"That's because everything was right," Nightwolf accepted the hand up from Giles, wincing at the ache in his hands. "The orb landed on a name before it exploded. Abaddon."

"So we go there, and we find Dawn and the others?" Buffy exacted.

"It's the only shot we have," Liu grimaced.

"What about your end?" Jack asked of Sam. "Anything?"

"There are traces of diluted sulfur and magnesium present in the kitchen, most likely a residue from whatever sort of transport was used," Sam reported. She hesitated for a second before going on, "Sir, there was also a quantity of naquadah."

"Naquadah?" Willow and Nightwolf repeated together.

"It's an element we discovered among alien technology," Sam told them. "It's very powerful."

"How did things go with Rayden?" Sonya asked Sub-Zero. "Did you find him?"

"Conversation was cut short," Sub-Zero replied, sparing a glance in Willow's direction. "But the gist of it is that he's calling in some favors."

Buffy nodded. "Alright, so we've got some info. Willow, Giles, hit the books, find what you can about this Abaddon place. And you– er, you guys do what you guys do," she had the grace to blush as Jack raised his brow.

"We can't do much with the information I've gathered," Sam said in frustration. "The most I can hypothesize is that, wherever they are, its atmosphere has sulfur, magnesium, and naquadah, a rather poisonous combination."

Jack weighed their options, then told her, "You join Willow and Giles on the research. Teal'c and I will set up watch. We don't know if the five will be the last taken, and I'm not getting sucker-punched again."

"Sub-Zero, try and get a hold of Rayden," Liu said to his comrade. "See if he's found anything. Nightwolf, help them with the research. Sonya and I will keep guard, too."

Solemnly, the group parted ways. Buffy stayed behind with Jack, Teal'c, Liu, and Sonya. She took a moment to stare out a window, wondering where their friends were and if they were safe._

* * *

Abaddon_

"Could you please stop hitting the door?" Daniel pleaded to Faith. "It doesn't seem to be accomplishing much."

She span, yelling, "At least I'm doing _something_! All _you_ can do is sit there and theorize about what the hell happened!"

Sensing Faith's readiness to attack the archaeologist, Dawn swiftly came to the Slayer's side and urged, "Daniel's ass isn't the one you need to kick, Faith. It's _theirs_," she gestured to the guards standing outside the door.

Sending a nasty glare to the mentioned captors, the brunette Slayer slid against the wall to the floor. She growled, "I am so going to kick their asses when I get out of here."

Kitana opened her eyes, pulling herself out of a meditative state. "Nothing," she sighed. "They have some sort of field in this cell, preventing any sort of mental contact."

Dawn paced the length of the cell, turning for a second trip when the shadows beyond the door bent and twisted. "Someone's coming," she informed them, hurrying to stand beside the rising Faith. Daniel and Kitana stood as well.

The door opened with a loud creak, and a normal-seeming man stepped through. His hair and eyes were dark, his complexion tan, and his stature tall, taller than Teal'c, Jax, or Giles. He dressed in blue robes and his steel-toed boots glimmered silver. He smirked down at the five, his confident smile enticing Faith to smash a few teeth out.

"I'm rather surprised the higher beings allowed such a collection to gather," he sneered, his voice as debonair as his looks. "Especially considering none of you knew the other existed."

"Where are we?" Faith demanded, keeping her cocky stance. "Who are you? And just to round off the questions, what do you want with us?"

"Such impertinence," the man sniffed. He entered the cell fully, and mocked them by forbidding the guards to follow. "One of your questions is immaterial; you will not live long enough for it to matter. Another question is one that will be answered when the moment is right. As for the remaining one . . . I suppose my captives should know the name of their future master. I am known as Hanbi."

Dawn eyed him coolly. "Zero points for fashion sense." She gulped and retreated farther behind Faith as he turned his attention to her.

"Such . . . humor, is wasted upon me, Key." At hers and Faith's startled looks, his smile returned in full. "Yes, I know all about your _true_ existence, little one. That is not your real form, merely a shell encasing the more significant being."

"Shut up," Faith growled, fingers itching to draw out the knife she didn't have on her.

"Ah ah," Hanbi held up a hand. "You shouldn't be so rude, second Slayer. I may be inclined to . . . dispose of unnecessary presences."

Daniel slid a bit to his left, shielding Dawn with Faith. "You know all of us, then?"

"Oh, yes," Hanbi turned and treaded the cell. "You, Daniel Jackson: once an Ascended being, but demoted for your interference. And Princess Kitana," he went on, turning in a circle but not looking at her, "stepdaughter to Emperor Shao Kahn, destroyer of worlds and made into an assassin. Yes, I know all of you. And I chose each of you for a reason.

"With each of you in my possession, I am near my goal to render Earth to its knees. However," he trailed off in disgust, "there is one problem facing me at the moment." He turned to face Kitana, eyes glittering with ire. "Princess, as you are the one who knows him best, I demand to know: Where is Stryker?"

Kitana eyed him coolly. "Nowhere he'd like you to be."

As the two glared, Daniel noted, _So he doesn't know where Stryker is, either. That means he might have escaped that flash. But how? And where is he? Have the others already been warned—_

Daniel was shaken out of his reverie when three guards entered the cell. As one Faith and Kitana tensed, and Dawn drifted closer to Daniel.

Hanbi waved the three guards forward, and said, "While Stryker is necessary for the completion of my plan, I can continue with the preliminary steps. Princess, if you would submit to a bloodletting, it would make everything much simpler."

Faith instantly stepped between Kitana and the guards. "Like hell."

Snapping his fingers, Hanbi stepped aside to allow the three guards room. They grabbed Faith, Dawn, and Daniel and pulled them away, leaving Kitana standing alone.

Growling with fury, Faith yanked her arms forward, dragging her guard flush into her back. She thrust her head up, headbutting him. As he staggered back Faith brought a heel up and kicked his chin, propelling him back into the wall. The Slayer turned to confront Hanbi, finding several more guards in the room, one of them notably a Screamer. Faith angled her body to barrel toward the enemy, but the Screamer opened its inhuman mouth and screeched.

Daniel, Kitana, and Dawn cringed and howled in pain, doubling over and trying to deafen the noise ineffectively. Faith, catching the brunt of the scream, barely had time to cry out when a burst of pain erupted in her head and she fainted.

The Screamer stopped, mouth clicking shut deafeningly. Hanbi, apparently unaffected by his minion's screech, motioned at a guard. The guard bent down to Faith, placing two fingers against a pulse. "Alive, sir."

"Good," Hanbi nodded. "I would hate to lose an integral blood component so early in the game." He turned to Kitana, smiling ambivalently. "Princess, your arm if you please?"

Kitana rose from her crouch, chin lifted and eyes defiant in spite of the pain.

"Such a proud will," Hanbi murmured, pulling out a knife from its sheath and a small vial. "I don't suppose you would consider joining me in my reign over the universe?"

"As Faith put it," Kitana answered calmly, "Like hell."

Hanbi nodded. "Of course."

Snakelike, he grabbed her arm and cut a slit into the crook of her arm. Acting on instinct, Kitana twisted her arm away, bringing one foot up to slam her heel under his chin. As he toppled back a few steps, a guard restrained Kitana.

Rubbing his chin and eyeing her with something akin to amusement, Hanbi palmed the dropped vial. "I should have expected that. Shame on me for underestimating you, Princess."

"You will be feeling much more than shame very soon," Kitana shot back. "Pain and death to name a couple."

Hanbi placed the vial below the cut, letting the blood quickly flow into the glass. "I'm afraid you'll be in for a disappointing climax, Princess. I don't intend to die, and while pain is in my future, it is a small sacrifice for the reward to be blessed to me."

He capped the filled vial and turned to leave the room. As the guards roughly shoved the three to the floor, Hanbi called over his shoulder, "Thank you for the blood, Princess. Rest assured, yours won't be the last."

* * *

Bwahaha. 'Twould've been interesting if the beam _had_ been the Asgard/Thor, as one reviewer guessed. But our heroes aren't that fortunate.


	5. Chapter 5: Not a Vacation Spot

**Revisions:  
**Chapter 2: all you need to know is that the Slayers weren't depowered, and have been dispatched around the globe. Willow still dumped Kennedy. Jack mentions that the Tok'ra have moved base again and the Goa'uld are laying low. The reason behind the change? A review made me realize this chapter and what I intended didn't meet eye to eye, so something needed to be changed. I like what I have going for the end, so this portion had to change. Besides, my reviewer was right; it did seem supremist of the Scoobies.  
Chapter 3: I was informed that I made a poor choice in Big Bads, so really the only difference is a change in enemy's name and alterations in the dialogue. Nothing terribly outstanding that you would miss if you didn't read the chapter over.  
Chapter 4: only noteworthy editing is that Faith puts up more of a fight; I did mean for her to actually fight, but as stated in my profile the changes weren't saved. Grr. 

There! Hopefully everything's peachy keen now. If not, point it out and I will change it and swear profusely. Probably not in that order.

Here's Chapter 5--after a very long delay._

* * *

__10:53 A.M._

The atmosphere hung with despondency as the Scoobies, SG-1, and the Kombatants exhausted their leads. Finding where their friends were held was one thing; getting to Abaddon was apparently an entirely different issue.

Willow referenced and cross-referenced and cross-referenced the cross-reference book and started all over again in a completely different direction, but nothing mentioned the entrance to Abaddon. They mentioned 'Pits of Death' and 'Harsh Desert Sands,' and there was also something in a language that predated ancient Sumerian which Willow could only translate roughly as 'Man of Sorrow's Broken Leg of Paradise.' No one could fault her translation, not even the far more fluent Giles.

Sam's scientific findings were little good to them. While it was very nice to know beforehand that Hanbi's transportation had an adverse combination of elements, there was nothing useful in getting _to_ Abaddon.

Their last hope, as far as Willow knew, lay in Rayden. The Kombatants held faith with the god, but Buffy, Jack, and Xander had enough skepticism to go around.

"I mean, c'mon," Jack was saying, "how do you _really_ know that he's a god? For all we know, he could be a really convincing Goa'uld."

"Unless Goa'ulds can produce lightning from their own willpower, I doubt that," Liu calmly refuted from his meditative position. He had finally given in to Sub-Zero's prompting and irritably found himself more relaxed than three hours ago. He would have preferred worrying relentlessly about Kitana's safety, since he couldn't do anything else. "Not to mention he's never displayed the desire to take over the entire universe."

"You sure about that?" Xander insisted. "Glory didn't look like a god that wanted to take over the world. She did, though."

"We're sure," Sonya growled absently; since the kitchen, the Lieutenant seemed more distracted than normal. "And the next person who asks how trustworthy Rayden is will be getting a swift kick out the door."

"My, I'm touched," Rayden's dry voice chuckled. "Do you always defend my honor while I'm away?"

Most everyone jumped. Teal'c was the sole person recently acquainted with the god to not flinch. "It's about time you got back to us," Jax said. "What took you so long?"

"Bureaucratic red tape is a rather nasty hindrance," Rayden waved aside. "However, I did get some good news."

"And the bad news is?" Sub-Zero lifted a brow.

"Wait, he didn't say he had bad news," Willow argued faintly. "He said he had good news. Good news is still defined as good, right?"

"Right," Rayden nodded, adding with an apologetic smile, "but with the good news comes the bad news."

"Get on with it then," Buffy demanded. "The sooner you spit it out the sooner we can get Dawn and the others back."

Rayden sighed. "I know where the entrance to Abaddon is."

"That's great news," Sam smiled.

"It's in Outworld."

The Kombatants groaned. "And the other shoe dropped," Liu muttered.

"The lead-weighted, steel-toed Sasquatch shoe," Sonya added darkly.

"Where is this Outworld located?" Teal'c inquired.

"And what's so bad about it?" Xander wanted to know.

"A Realm taken over hostilely by a tyrannical emperor," Nightwolf answered. "If the emperor's remnant soldiers don't kill you, the natives will. Us needing to go into Outworld is bad."

"How bad is bad?" Willow gulped. "Bad bad? Or _really_ bad bad?"

"Bad as in we're going to want light-speed transportation to get through Outworld," Sub-Zero murmured forbiddingly.

"It doesn't matter," Buffy broke in solemnly. Everyone looked at the Slayer, varying degrees of concern expressed at her tone. "This. . . this Hanbi wants to destroy the world. He wants to undo everything I've done and make everything I gave up for in vain. He kidnapped friends of ours. _He has Dawn_. I won't just let him hide away in his stupid world, no matter how many Realms or baddies I have to pass through. I have to save them."

"She's right," Jack nodded. "Daniel's our friend. We won't just let Handy have him without a fight."

"Hanbi," Teal'c corrected.

"Didn't I say that?"

Liu nodded in agreement. "We've faced worse. We'll go in and save our friends."

"Besides," Sonya added with a halfhearted grin, "Kitana wouldn't ever forgive us for leaving her with just Stryker for company."

_Unknown_

_Hot. So . . . damn . . . hot._

A man groaned as he opened his eyes, feeling sore beyond belief and nauseated.

He blinked several times to shed the veil over his eyes left from sleep. The veil didn't lift.

_I'm blind. How . . . how can I be blind? What happened? Do I have amnesia? Stryker. Captain Stryker, NYPD. Sonya, Liu, Jax, Sub-Zero, Nightwolf, and Kitana are my friends. Rayden only on selective days. Okay, not amnesiac. Just blind. Dammit._

Stryker struggled to get his feet under him, slipping on a grainy surface. _Sand_, he thought bewilderedly. The last he remembered, he had been helping Jax move some crates to the kitchen on the base.

He searched for the sun, using his hand to measure where the greatest heat radiated. Having his bearings, Stryker walked toward the sun, wincing and swearing as his boots sank deep enough into the sand to allow the particles in.

Several times he tried looking at his watch to calculate how long he had been walking, only to curse his idiocy and plod on futilely. He did his best to ignore his thirst and the rumbling in his stomach. He distracted himself by running through scenarios that would have landed him in this situation.

Shao Kahn had invaded the base and, in escaping the self-destruct, he'd somehow landed in the Sahara Desert. Rayden forgot that April Fool's Day wasn't for another two months. Jax took offense to something Stryker said and had struck him upside the head, dumping him in this desert as a reinforcement to the lesson.

Just as Stryker was about to calm himself from hyperventilating, the ground beneath his foot disappeared. He wind-milled, then toppled head-first down a slope.

Curling into a ball, Stryker took the brunt of the force on his back, covering his head with his hands and locking his ankles together. When he finally came to a stop, Stryker unraveled himself and took inventory. Nothing felt broken, though his body was under protest about the treatment. Pillow-fighting with metal was not what his body signed up for when he was born—

_Wait a minute . . . Metal?_

Stryker felt the slope. Smooth, cold metal met his gloved fingers.

"Oh great, now where am I?" he muttered to himself, using the slope to get to his feet.

Something crackled to the left of his ear, making him drop to his stomach. He heard a swearword behind him, and with a split-second decision Stryker jumped to his feet, spun, and lashed out as best he could at the attacker. He felt a gun-like object connect with his heel, and the hand wielding it was disarmed. Reacting with the training Sub-Zero gave him, Stryker followed through with his kick, using the hand's location to estimate where the chest was. Stryker punched, feeling the air leave the body and the person falling away.

From behind he heard another crackle, but he couldn't duck in time. His nerves suddenly lit on fire, crackling with hot energy that made him howl. Knees weak, head bursting with firecrackers, Stryker gave to the pain and collapsed.

* * *

I hope to make updates more regular. 'Hope' being the operative word. 


	6. Chapter 6: Experiencing Some Turbulence

Okay, so I really _did_try to update quickly. However, it was a mite unrealistic for me. My Muse is preferring to play in other universes, school is coming to a head with finals looming, and I'm at an end to my pre-written stuff that just needed editing. But, on the bright side, this is a longer chapter; longer than most of the other ones, at least.

So here's Chapter Six, hopefully not the last for the next eight months.

_

* * *

_

_3:27 P.M., Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, SGC_

Outworld, from what the Kombatants had said of it, was a dangerous place. Dangerous enough to warrant fast transportation rather than heavily-armored transport.

Sam suggested returning to the SGC to requisition trucks and other supplies. With little other option, everyone consented the cross-country trip to Colorado and sign the non-disclosure agreements required to enter the SGC. Xander balked at the idea of signing a paper that, essentially, kept him from using his rights as a U.S. citizen until Buffy and Willow glared at him. Then he meekly wrote his name and said, "But hey, we get to see a top-secret base that no one else in the country knows about—again."

When Jack called the SGC to inform the General of the impending arrivals, Hammond seemed rather baffled at the request for nine copies of the agreements and to prepare himself for a rather eclectic group to come to the base. Jack was almost certain that the General was going to deny it, but suddenly the Texan said yes and hung up before Jack could even blink. Returning to the group, Jack wondered for a moment whether to ask the Defenders if Rayden would stoop so low as to hoodwink his superior commander, then decided against it. Sonya _had_ said she'd kick the next person's ass who questioned Rayden's intentions, and she seemed like a person who kept her word.

The speediest way to Colorado was via Rayden's portals, which made many cringe. However, reminded about their missing friends, they braved the portal and stepped through.

Sam noted that she managed to stay on her feet this time, though she still felt ready to be sick. Xander was less adept, vomiting as soon as his knees hit the ground. A couple others were close to losing their stomachs, but they held it well.

"Where are we?" Sub-Zero asked quietly, eyes already scanning the surroundings. Sam felt a prick of envy at his rapid recovery, though she reasoned with herself that he had more experience.

The Colonel looked around from his knees, wincing as he creaked back to a stand. "One of the storage areas, probably on Level 4. Smart of Rayden to dump us in here rather than in front of Hammond."

"Don't put it past him," Jax advised. "Rayden's good for a god, but sometimes he forgets mortals don't always find the humor in what he does."

As soon as everyone had regained their bearings, Jack opened the door and led the way out. A few technicians paused in the hallway and stared.

"C'mon," Sam motioned. "We need you to sign the agreements first. It's good that we're not past many of the security checkpoints."

As they filed into a meeting room General Hammond rose from his seat, eyes glaring hard at his premier team. SG-1 fell into relaxed attention, as did Sonya and Jax. Everyone else arranged themselves close to their group, eyes notably focused anywhere except the General. Buffy considered for a moment walking up to the bald man, sticking out her hand, and chirpily greeting him with a thoroughly southern California Valley girl accent, but he didn't seem like a man to be crossed. Besides, Giles would scold her and rub his glasses so hard he'd break them.

"SG-1, who are these people and where's Dr. Jackson?" Hammond wasted no time with pleasantries after everyone signed the non-disclosure agreements, switching his gaze from one face to another.

"Well, sir," Jack said lightly, "we're the ones who have to save the world. And Danny got himself kidnapped. Again. We're here to request permission to requisition arms and get . . . some . . . transportation . . . sir," Jack drifted off, noting his superior commander's stormy look get worse.

"Colonel, you _are_ aware that the Head of the Appropriations committee is currently here, to 'assess' the SGC's budget? If I so much as approve an extra box of paper clips, I'll be pinned by Kinsey as negligent and wasteful."

"Sir, this is an emergency," Sam put in.

"Yeah, like Apophis Round One all over again," Jack added. "Except worse."

Buffy wondered at Jack's addition of 'Round One,' but dropped it as the General seemed honestly concerned. "Are you certain of the level of this threat, Colonel?"

"Hanbi has already circumvented our line of defense once, General Hammond," Teal'c advised. "All precautions should be instigated to prevent his impending arrival on Earth."

Hammond frowned, then sighed something almost too soft to hear; Sam thought it was along the lines of, "Should have retired then and there, and not take the easy job." She decided she had been hearing things, and tuned in when Hammond said, "Alright, I've got Siler busy distracting Kinsey at the moment on Level 25. Go requisition what you need in terms of firearms, and return to my office at sixteen hundred hours. Major Carter, follow me."

Caught off-guard by the request, Sam could only shrug at the others as they filed out to their separate locations. The large group was rather disgruntled at the elevator ride, especially when they unloaded only to pile into another elevator. They finally made it to the storage, where Jack shoved several zats into their hands.

"One shot stuns, two kill, three disintegrates. Keep that in mind when you aim," Jack told them. "Good with long distances, but if Hanbi or his soldiers have shields they might not work."

Buffy handed her zat to Giles, nose wrinkled. "I'll stick with my Scythe. It goes better with my clothes. And it doesn't feel so. . . weird."

They had barely finished gathering the last of the grenades (Jack insisted on them; he apparently felt they brought good luck on missions) when Sam barreled into the room, shutting the door with a huff. "Liu, do you think Rayden can open a portal in here to transport us?" she asked before anyone could inquire after her flushed face.

"Sure," the Champion replied, brows furrowed. "He'll need to know where we're heading, though."

"Carter, what's going on?" Jack drawled cautiously.

"Kinsey nearly barged in on us," Sam answered. "Hammond managed to see him and shoo me out before Kinsey could really have a look at me, but we'd better go before Kinsey puts two and two together."

"So much for wheeled transportation, then," Xander sighed.

Sam smiled, one that Jack and Teal'c recognized as her devious side showing itself. "No, that's what the portal is for. We're heading to Nevada."

"Nevada?" Sub-Zero frowned. "What the hell is in Nevada?"

Jack stared disbelievingly at his 2IC, then guffawed. "Hammond is letting us use the X-303 on this mission?"

"Technically, sir, it's the BC-303. And yes, he did."

"What's an X-BC. . . what you said?" Buffy looked curiously at her other companions; none of them seemed any wiser about it, which meant she hadn't missed some important break-through in the scientific community recently.

"You'll see," Sam said, aiming her next comment at Liu. "The location is Area 37-92, Nevada. Can Rayden—"

A portal crackled to their collective left, halting her sentence. Jax said, "Well, he always did love eavesdropping on us way back when, why would he stop now?"

Jack grimaced at the sight of the portal, turning to his comrades with a sigh. "My knees are getting too old for this. Let's head out, campers, before Kinsey tracks Carter down and put Hammond into any more trouble."

"'Campers?'" Willow muttered under her breath. "Scoobies sound so much better than 'campers.'"

Sam waited until the last person (Xander, who took a moment to gather his nerves before braving the wild ride) went through, taking a deep breath and jumping.

_Just hang on, Daniel. We're coming to get you. Just hang on_.

* * *

_Abaddon_

Faith awoke with a groan, eyes fluttering open. As she finally focused her eyes, Dawn's face greeted her with an anxious look. "I think she's waking up!" Dawn said, though her voice sounded incredibly muted.

Two other faces, Kitana's and Daniel's, hovered over hers. "Faith, are you alright?" Daniel asked, his voice also quiet.

Grunting, Faith sat up slowly. Her head spun, and it took a minute for her to focus. "Yeah. Five by five." _Or maybe two or three,_ she thought privately as her own voice sounded distinctly softer. "What happened?"

"A Screamer knocked you out," Dawn replied. "Do you remember?"

The Slayer frowned. Yes, she remembered. And she was thoroughly disgruntled. "Those things won't get the best of me again," she grumbled, standing with the help of Kitana's hand. She spotted the crook of her arm, which had a blood stain on it. "Where did this come from? I don't remember me ever tossing in my sleep."

"The guards came again," Kitana answered. "They took two vials of your blood. Whichever ritual Hanbi is intending to invoke, he apparently needs a certain amount of blood respective to the host."

"We tried to fight them off, but," Daniel shook his head. "It didn't work. When they brought the Screamer in, we had to play nice."

Faith nodded. "Good idea. I'm still a little deaf in one ear from that last one." She cracked her neck, which did some good in clearing her hearing.

"Why do you think they need our blood?" Dawn asked quietly, rubbing arms that were undoubtedly bruised from the guards' rough treatment. "What sort of ritual are they going to perform?"

"Whatever it is, it can't be good for us," Daniel sighed. "The only fortunate thing I can see in this situation is that they can't complete the ritual without Stryker."

"There is also a time-factor," Kitana spoke up from her meditation. "Otherwise, they would have taken all of our blood at the same time."

"S-so, maybe the others will get here before they finish," Dawn said hopefully, eyes turning dark with worry. "'Cause, I don't know about any of you guys, but after they're done making us bleed, I don't think they would really need us for much longer."

Faith winced. Dawn was right. Hanbi might need their blood, fresh blood, one at a time, but as soon as the last vial was filled he'd have no use for them. They would be dead as soon as he could manage it. Four less people to contend with.

Cracking her knuckles, Faith shoved at the door once more. The iron door refused to budge even an inch. "Dammit, why the hell can't I bust through this door? I've broken stronger things than this!"

"It might be spelled," Kitana said. "Hanbi must have been planning this for some time, long enough to know how to prevent our escape."

"I wonder where the others are," Dawn whispered as she sat slumped against the wall. "Has it been a long time since we got abducted?"

"It might be," Daniel replied. "It might be that it's only been an hour on Earth since we've been caught. It might have been weeks."

Kitana folded her hands in her lap, head leaning back on the wall. "They will find us. And I hope they don't kill Hanbi before they let us out."

Faith agreed with her sentiment whole-heartedly, although Dawn and Daniel seemed a bit averse to the idea. She slammed her fist one last time against the door before sprawling on the floor to rest. She would kick the guards' asses next time they came in to draw blood, even if she had to cut off her own fingers to plug her ears.

Maybe she'd get to kick Hanbi's ass, too.

_

* * *

4:39 P.M. Earth MST, Outworld_

"I suppose this is a better use of our tax money than paying the wealthy," Sonya breathed, staring out the bay window with the others. Some, including Xander, Willow, Jax, and Liu, nodded dumbly beside her. Giles and Nightwolf were seated beside Sam in the cluster of navigation computers, the former gazing at the technology warily and often, to the Scoobies' amusement, cleaning his glasses while the latter watched Sam with an intensity Sam would compare more with a hawk. Eerily Kiva watched, too, and if Sam didn't know any better she could have sworn the wolf comprehending most of what she was saying.

Jack sat in the captain's chair, more because he was the most familiar with the ship _Prometheus_ (aside from Sam, who was needed to navigate) than an accedence of power. Teal'c, Sub-Zero, and Buffy stood near the rear of the bridge, all preparing themselves for the fight looming ahead.

The cracked earth underneath them zoomed past, dotted occasionally by foliage, rocks, or the threatening natives. The main screen, blocking the most-direct front view, displayed the natives Nightwolf had referred to. The long, thick line trailed after them with blades erupting out of their arms and other appendages, and their jaws snapped in spite of their atrocious fangs—Jack was reluctant to call them teeth. Other creatures were four-armed behemoths and other disgusting monsters, some native to this world, some not according to the Defenders.

The Kombatants had spared some fighting techniques, most of them boiling down to an illegal car maneuver: "hit and run."

"Why couldn't Rayden open a portal closer?" Buffy asked, irritation in her voice. "Rather than fly for so long, we could've just had a portal open right to the doorway."

"So much mysticism is centered around the doorway that Rayden couldn't open a portal within five hundred miles," Sub-Zero answered. "The magic keeps the door closed against unwarranted intrusion. If he tried to open a portal as close as you suggested, we would have mutated beyond recognition into nothing more than the nomads down there."

No one complained about the road trip thereafter.

"Is that it?" Sam asked after two minutes from her seat in the navigation sector, pointing to a rusty archway seemingly reaching to the heavens above.

"It must be," Nightwolf said. "We can fly through the gate with the _Prometheus_."

"Past entering Abaddon, do we even have a plan?" Sub-Zero spoke up suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him. "Or were we going to act with American gung-ho idiocy and barge into Hanbi's territory guns blazing and nothing else?"

"'American gung-ho idiocy?'" Jack repeated, offended.

"Sir, he is right," Sam tried to soothe the ruffled feathers Sub-Zero's comment had elicited. "We should scout the area before breaking in and saving the others."

Jack grumbled, but agreed. "We'll scout, come up with the best way to enter, and put our 'idiocy' to work."

As they approached the gate (the apex of which now loomed over them ominously) Sam slowed the _Prometheus_. "How do we activate the entrance?" she asked.

Willow stepped to the front of the bridge, a look of excitement on her face. "I got a spell ready for this, when Rayden mentioned the gate," she explained. "He told me before he left that I'd need to concoct a spell."

Giles rose, a bit concerned. "Willow, are you sure this is—"

"It's okay, Giles," Willow nodded encouragingly. "I made it to use very little in the Black department. It's based mostly around White Magick, so I should be okay."

"Well, whatever it is you're going to do," Sonya said, alarmed. "Do it quickly, because the Shokans are—"

The _Prometheus_ rocked, klaxons ringing throughout the ship. "What the hell was that?" Jack demanded as another force hit the bow.

"Something is firing on us," Sam typed rapidly over the keyboard. "I don't see any signs of an aerial assault, or technology in the vicinity."

"That's because it's coming from the Shokans," Liu said as another blast made the ship shudder. "They're attacking us from the ground."

"I'm going to want a better explanation than that when we're out of harms way," Buffy said as she stumbled to Jack's chair. "Willow, do it now!"

Willow snapped back to her task, lifting her arms and shouting in Latin,

"_Open, Gate to an otherworld,_

_Take us through, open the stars to us,_

_Allow us passage through your doors,_

_Send us on our way, to Abaddon!_"

The gate activated in a violent tornado, black interlaced with red lightning. As the _Prometheus_ was pulled through, Willow collapsed to the ground, the lights flickered off, and the passengers of the ship lost all sense of discernment.

_

* * *

Unknown_

For a moment, Stryker thought he had died. He couldn't move, he couldn't see, and everything was silent.

Slowly, breath by breath, Stryker reassured himself that he was alive. For one thing, he was breathing. For a second, it wasn't completely silent, just quiet. He heard footsteps and voices, though he couldn't pinpoint where they came from.

He still couldn't see anything. Mentally cursing his blindness, Stryker tried to move. Stiffly, he rolled to his right side and got his hands underneath his torso to push himself up in a sitting position. A wall behind him helped prop Stryker up.

The air was cool and smelled damp, as though he were underground. _Where the hell am I? How did I get here?_

Everything was jumbled in his head without images to link to the details. He remembered sand, heat, metal, and panic rising in his chest. Then there was a fight with an unknown enemy. One he didn't last long in, but given that he was blind and without Sub-Zero's extensive training Stryker forgave himself that loss.

The panic was returning. He felt it in his chest, constricting his lungs. Taking a deep breath, Stryker forced himself to calm down and take things one step at a time.

_Alright, inventory. What do I have?_ Stryker felt for his baton, but his weapon wasn't there. His communicator had also been taken from him, and he cursed himself for not remembering the device before. _This is what you get when you panic and don't think things through. Hell, this is what you get when you involve yourself with Thunder Gods and honor-bound monks and ice ninjas and otherworldly conflicts._

The footsteps were getting louder. Coming closer. Stryker tried to push himself up to his feet, but his legs wouldn't cooperate.

Something hummed, and the footsteps halted a few paces before him. Stryker stilled, trying to identify how many there were.

"State your name and affiliation," a voice, low, male, and echoing, demanded of him.

Stryker jumped; that was no human's voice. Once again Stryker wondered where he was exactly. "Captain Jean Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise. Who're you?"

The man to whom the eerie voice belonged didn't reply right away, but when he did his voice had lost its echo. "You're from Earth?"

Several observations and questions plagued Stryker. One was that, if this man hadn't already known he was from Earth, he wasn't responsible for his abduction. Two, it sounded like he wasn't anywhere on Earth, which wasn't at all helpful to Stryker considering his activities the past year fighting Shao Kahn. Third, how did the man know about Earth?

The last observation Stryker made was that the man didn't seem at all pleased he was from Earth.

"Are you with the NID, then?" the man continued to interrogate him, his voice not obtaining the strange echo but getting dangerously close to growling.

"I hate the NID, actually," Stryker said, wishing once more he had his sight. "Too corrupt for my tastes."

There was even more silence, in which Stryker heard feet shuffling. _Two, three pairs of feet,_ Stryker tried to think without giving it away in his facial features. _Still no idea if they're armed, which if they're keeping me prisoner they probably are._ "You still haven't answered me, you know. Who are you people?"

There wasn't an answer, though he felt body heat very close to him. Fighting back a fidget, Stryker failed to withhold his surprise when a woman's voice asked, "Can you heal your blindness?"

Stryker wondered what sort of question that was. "If I could, do you think I'd still be blind?" _And you **still** haven't answered my question yet._

The strangers were silent once more, and Stryker wondered if he had irked them one nerve too far. Footsteps moving closer to him only made the man more nervous, and he tried standing once more. He managed to place his feet firmly on the ground, but he had no strength to stand.

"Take it easy," the male voice, softer now, "I'm only going to heal the blindness. This might feel uncomfortable for a minute, but it'll help."

_Heal the blindness? How? Are they gods? Relatives of Rayden? No, if they were Rayden would be here—what the hell!_

A tingling curved around his head to the base of his neck, making Stryker squirm. Just as he was beginning to berate himself for letting someone so close to his head, the tingling left and the body heat near him lessened. "Can you tell any difference?"

_No, I don't, everything is still as black as before __**and** you made me a guinea—wait._

His eyes were shut.

Slowly, cautiously, Stryker blinked. Lights and colors swam together, making the picture indistinct. But as he waited, figures separated from the background and colors stopped swirling into one.

Three people stood before him, two male and the last female. They were all dressed in a strange mesh of beige-colored clothing. One man, the closest one to Stryker, was a balding man with light blue eyes and eyebrows lifted in an eternally skeptic appearance. In his hand was a strange gold device, with a jewel set in metal in the palm of his hand. The other man stayed by the entrance to his cell, hand held lightly at his waist; Stryker decided the man was armed. The woman had auburn-hair cut at her shoulders and dark eyes that made Stryker feel more like a test subject than a prisoner.

He wasn't sure which one made him feel worse.

"Did it work?" the woman pressed.

Stryker flickered his eyes between them, wondering which would be the safer answer. If he said no, he could always surprise these strangers on a later date. If he said yes, he could start a trust between them and avoid further experimentation.

The last thought more than anything made Stryker answer, "Yeah, it worked."

The bald man smiled. "Good. I hope you weren't lying before about you not being with the NID, or you're going to have one hell of a comeuppance."

"I wasn't. And for the last time, who _are_ you people?" Stryker demanded, testing his legs' strength. They were recovering slowly, but steadily.

The man pursed his lips, then replied, "My name's Jacob Carter. She's Anise, and that's Perchak. We're known as the Tok'ra."

The feeling that he was missing something distracted Stryker when Jacob said, 'Carter.' It was as if he had heard that name before, very recently. He couldn't place where, though. He didn't know any Carter's, aside from this one.

He put it aside as another question popped into mind. "What's a Tok'ra? Is that some sort of conspiracy group?"

Jacob snorted. "Close enough. We're an opposition against the tyrants of the universe."

Stryker blinked. _Tyrants . . . of the universe? Do they mean Shao Kahn? Why the hell weren't we told there was another fighting force out there?_ "So, you guys, you fight against Shao Kahn? Is that it?"

All three looked confused, though Jacob looked even more (if it was possible) skeptical. "You're either an NID agent who's very good at playing dumb, or you really don't know what's going on. I'm more inclined to say the first option, since an Average Joe couldn't have fumbled onto another planet light years away, no matter how accident-prone he is."

_Depends on how 'average' Average Joe is._ "I really don't know what's going on. Really. First I'm helping out my friend move stuff around, and the next thing I know I'm waking up in a desert and getting attacked by certain face-less people," Stryker accused, eyes resting on Perchak.

Perchak seemed undaunted. "You stumbled into our tunnels while we were still setting them up. We didn't know if you were friend or foe, and chose to exercise caution."

"We apologize about the incident," Jacob interrupted before Stryker could retort, "though we aren't very sorry about defending ourselves. Now, who are you, really?"

Stryker didn't know how much he should trust these Tok'ra, no matter Jacob's friendliness in curing his blindness. Reluctantly he said, "Captain Stryker. I'm with the New York riot brigade."

Jacob nodded, satisfied. "Alright. We're going to have to keep you here; safety precautions and all that. Did you want something to eat? The food isn't great, but it's a step up from starving."

Stryker almost declined, but his stomach rumbled with hunger. "Food would be nice, yeah."

"I will be back with your food," Anise assured him before Jacob could, leaving with graceful but quick steps.

Stryker gulped. "Is she . . . dangerous?"

"No," Jacob shook his head. "Unless you wind up as her test subject. Relax," he added at Stryker's widened eyes. "We're cautious, not sadists. I won't let her prod you with anything unless you consent to it."

Noting the switch between 'we' and 'I,' Stryker waited until they left his cell before rising to his feet. Emboldened by his sturdy stance, Stryker began to stretch and work his muscles.

Jacob seemed nice. And fighting against a tyrant was an occupation Stryker could sympathize with. But he was already involved in a fight, and his friends needed him. That took precedence over a stranger's need for aid.

An image of people—people he didn't know—flashed before his mind. Halting, Stryker waited for the vision to pass. Again that niggling feeling of forgetfulness tugged at him, but he dismissed it. He had more pressing matters to worry about.

* * *

Story notes: I wanted to useactual Latin for Willow's spell, but as I have never studied (and probably never will) Latin, this was as close as I could get. And when the Tok'ra build their crystal tunnels, I figured they have to have a starting point, one that isn't buried underneath the ground and solely accessible via the rings. That's how Stryker went from sandy surface to metal/crystal surface. 


End file.
